The Mind Traps Within
by MH Kat
Summary: The events between the Third and Fourth Uprisings have remained a mystery... Until now. *Chapter 3! Zero and the relatively new commander of the 15th have their long awaited faceoff! But odd things are a-happening in MHHQ... Nothing's what it seems.*
1. Foreword, Acknowledgments, and Schtuff!

The Mind Traps Within

By: Kat (MH is just a prefix, ya know?)

FOREWORD, ACKNOWLEDGMENTS, AND SCHTUFF!

Firstly, I welcome ya all to your first dip into one of my 'fics!  How do I know this is your first, you ask?  'Cuz it's my only 'fic!  Well, not counting my poem, which has become invalid now that I've changed the whole storyline at least thrice times over.  (Sorry for those who wanted to know.  It's not like my original really at all.  Oh, and the start's a bit quirky, but don't be set off by that.)  But not to worry!  You'll get whatcha came for!

Now, I wanna warn you all really quick.  My updates may come slow, but I will try my best to get moving.  This is my first try, as I've mentioned, at a full-blown 'fic, and I hope not to disappoint.  Oh, and don't forget to Read and Review!  I occasionally have problems with that second part, so don't be like me, kay?  I need ALL the feedback I can get, including CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.  All other types of criticism will be ridiculed and shown to my friends.  So I guess that's not ALL feedback then, hmm?  I'll stop rambling now and get on with the acknowledgments.

Now for the people I know personally.  I'd like to thank me dad for givin' me encouragement, and my mom for not bugging me all the time about all my writing.  Then we have the people who have inspired me.  One of the first fics I ever read was by a certain Red Draco.  BNF, to be precise.  She was the one who really gave me some hope.  Secondly, I'd especially like to give a LOT of credit to Erico.  Bravo Erico for a job well done.  I've never seen such a good display of creativity and talent.  I'd also like to thank him for the timeline information he sent to me.  Keep on writing!

Now I'll be seeing you off.  I welcome you as we take the plunge into…

The Mind Traps Within.


	2. Prologue: Deadly Horizons

The Mind Traps Within

By: Kat

Prologue-Deadly Horizons 

**_July 23, 2127_**

"We're gonna be late!  It's almost time!"

"Aw, shut yo' hole.  We know _that_ already."

The first speaker huffed in response.

"_He-ey!_  Glitch's touching me!"

"Oh shut up Jonathan.  I wouldn't wanna touch you anyway."  Glitch wrinkled his nose in disgust.  "You're full of icky germs."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!!"

"Believe what you will, but I stand behind my decision."

Jonathan was about to retaliate with one or two colorful obscenities when he was cut off.

"This would be a perfect example of "some alcohol will screw ya, and too much will either make ya dead or irreversibly psychotic."  Look at yourselves!  Yer arguing about cooties for chrissakes!"

At that moment, both offenders slowly faced each other.  Understanding shown on their faces like a light from above as their eyes widened.

Dorn smacked his hand into his forehead.

"Oh dear god, what'd I say?"

Glitch's face transformed into a snarl of triumph, while Jonathan's had the opposite effect.  He backed into his corner of seat cushion, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an incoming eighteen-wheeler.

"Jonathan's got COOTIES!!!"

"N-n-n-n-no!  I can't!"

"So _that'd _explain why the guy can't get a date!" guffawed Aero.

The since quiet Desiree spoke up.

"How much did they have?  I haven't seen anyone this bad since," she paused. "Well, ever."

"Yeah, I know.  That was one great party!" exclaimed Aero.  He nudged the droopy-eyed Krystyn.

"Hey there, you awake?"

"Mmm?  Yah, that was a good party.  Heh, I remember my 21st birthday.  So many cherished memories…" she dropped off.

"Oh, we are _so_ screwed," muttered Desiree.  "Now this."

Desiree squatted down and set her hands on the other woman's shoulders.  Her voice took on the tone from one of the famous "mother to daughter" conversations.

"Krystyn, honey?  Stay with me now.  Sorry to burst your bubble, but um… That _was_ your party.  You know, the one we just came from?"

"Damn straight!"  And with that, her head hit the window of their bus with a resounding thud.

"Hey, she's out cold."

"Oh really Sherlock?  _Brilliant_ deduction!"

"Gimme a break!"

"Shut _up_, please," requested Desiree.  Closing her eyes, she massaged her temples with the tips of her fingers.

"Oh god.  What a mess," she mumbled.

She and her colleagues had been called to an emergency meeting at the lab.  They had all been caught in the middle of Krystyn's 21st birthday party, which of course, accounted for Krystyn, Glitch, and Jonathan's tipsiness.  They had no choice but to pack up and go, leaving the now hostless celebration.  Of course, no one noticed or cared.  All they were worried about was a full punch bowl.

Sighing, Desiree opened her eyes with no great ease.

"Can't we just, I don't know, leave them on the bus?"

A glance up toward the hoverbus driver gave an immediate "no" to that one. Smiling, Desiree gave him a look of sympathy.  He stared at her in his rearview mirror, shot a look that told her she was insane, and never took his eyes off the road again.

She slumped in her seat.  _Might as well do a quick check on everyone's status._  Although unofficial, she considered herself the leader of their happy little group

"O-kay," she breathed.

Dorn looked very angry at the world right now, with his arms crossing his chest.  Glitch and Jonathan were _still_ in argument about the fact of the latter having "cooties."

"And I thought that went out years ago along with Etch-A-Sketches," Desiree murmured.

Aero was staring out the opposite window, obviously disgusted with the turn of events.  Desiree wasn't sure if it was because of the disturbing behavior of their comrades, or their having to leave the party.

Krystyn was slumped with her head resting on Aero's shoulder, still completely dead to the world.

"Hmm," breathed Desiree. "That's ev-Wait a minute!" 

Mentally, she chided herself for the mistake.  There was one more-Biome hadn't spoken a word through their whole little charade.  Even before looking at him, she knew what he'd be doing.  Normally, he would be sitting with a blank look, think about only god knew what.

_Now,_ she thought.  _Let's see if I win the prize._  Turning her head towards the back of the bus, Desiree caught sight of her target.

_Score._  Her guess was right on the money.  _Time to find out what's going on in his head._

"Hey Biome," she called quietly.  No answer.

"Yo Biome!" she tried again, calling more forcefully

"Huhm?"

"I dunno if you noticed our situation, but…" She left the statement hanging.

Biome's head swiveled, scanning the bus interior with attention to detail.  He raised his eyebrows in response.

"Yes, this is some situation, all right," he conceded.

"What do we do?"

"All we can hope for is they behave themselves once we reach the lab."

Well, at least he knew where they were headed.

"I guess you're right.  If we had enough time, we could have dropped them off…" But that wouldn't work.  They _could_ say that the three of them were sick, but one, that was a dang big coincidence, and two, Claytrall had already seen them today, all with clean bills of health.

Claytrall.  The most respected scientist to walk the halls of the laboratory. That was, except for the one in charge of the facility itself.  That went without saying.

Claytrall was the leader of their little "project" and it was a great honor to be working with him.  He wasn't a specialist in any particular subject.  He didn't need to be.  Simply speaking, the guy was a genius.  And simply speaking… 

Desiree didn't trust him.  Not fully, anyway.  He acted kind of oddly, but she supposed that might be normal for a genius.  One thing was certainly true, though.  He was shielding himself.  And from what, she didn't know.  But whatever fact she tried to attribute it to, she couldn't get rid of the feeling.  It made no sense, but emotions and "feelings" rarely did.

"Ah well," sighed Desiree.  _No use thinking about it now._  Glancing out the window, she caught sight of a familiar neighborhood.  _Almost there._

Turning back to her thoughts, she hoped her little addition to the project went unnoticed.  If Claytrall found out, or anyone else for that matter, they would believe she didn't trust the supervisor's judgment-which could have disastrous results.  _Hmm.  I wonder why Claytrall didn't think of it himself._

Desiree realized that they were only a few blocks from the lab.  She hoped they weren't too late.  That might not look too good on the record.  She could just see it now.

**Tardy to Emergency Meeting Due to Overindulgence of Spiked Fruit Punch.**

No, that wouldn't be good at all.

Especially for the top research team.

No.  Dr. Doppler wouldn't like that at all.

**********

Claytrall checked his internal chronometer.  They were late.  _Good,_ he thought.  _I'm running a bit behind myself._

He quickly strode to the nearest computer console and tapped in a series of commands.

Accessing… 

**WARNING: Activation of Trigger Program SUBRESLT will overwrite actual data upload.  Continue? Yes.**

Would you like to view total COMMAND sequence? 

_Might as well make sure everything was correct.  Didn't want any slip-ups._

**Yes.**

Upon access of SCANVIR Program, commands shall be rerouted to CLAYSYN, subsequently activating T.Program SUBRESLT.  Overwrite of current data upload will be imminent.  Once task goals are achieved, all attached files will be wiped from Mainframe.  Satisfactory?

Claytrall hesitated for the slightest of moments, but finalized the sequence.  Collapsing into the closest chair, he heaved a sigh of relief, finally letting himself relax.

_Done.  I'm finally done._

The hardest part was over.  Everything after this would seem simple in comparison.  Transport would begin early tomorrow.  

Leaning back, Claytrall let out another sigh.  For now, all he had to do was wait.

**********

Supporting Krystyn with her shoulder, Desiree was the last to step off the bus.  Turning, she began to address the driver.

"Hey, tha-," was as far as she got when the door slid shut in her face.  The bus then shot off into the quiet of night.

"Oh well.  No tip for him then," she sighed.  "Time to get down to business."

Desiree strode with conviction to the front of the group and faced them all.  A steely glint flashed in her eyes.

"O-kay!  Listen up.  We're about to enter the most respected lab in the country, hell, probably even the world.  Let me make this clear.  I want no less than the best from you, and for those of you who had too much punch, well," she narrowed her eyes at the accused three. "Just be quiet and behave yourselves."

'"Yes ma'am," saluted Dorn jokingly.

"Let's just get inside."

The pack of young scientists made their way to the entrance.  Desiree then slid her keycard in the entry slot.

"Desiree Ambyule.  Welcome," chirped a pleasant female voice as the door's seals separated and opened.

They all stepped inside and were then momentarily met by George, a microfusion specialist.

"Hey guys.  Whoa, what happened?" he gasped in response at the trio.

"One too many dips into the happy punch bowl of life and late night parties," responded Desiree.

"Oh… I see," George mused with brows raised.  "So what are you guys doing here this late?  Oh wait, lemme guess."  He held up a hand.  "It has something to do with whatever's in basement floor three, huh?"

Desiree appeared surprised.  "How'd you know?"

"Well, considering that floor has been put on "restricted" status for quite a while, rumors have been floating here and there about what's down there.  Everything from weapons research to mutated bunnies.  Though I have no idea what good mutated bunnies would do."  He scratched his head.

"Also, considering how often you guys are together all the time, and two, no one ever sees you around inside except to get some java led to guessing.  Put two and two together…" he stopped.  "Well, you get the picture."

"So much for security," Dorn rolled his eyes.

"Dangit!" Desiree exclaimed looking at her watch.  "We're late!  Sorry, George, we gotta go!"

She grabbed Krystyn by the arm as they started past George.

"Any chance telling me what's up?"

"Even if we could, we don't have much of a clue ourselves!" called Desiree over her shoulder.

"Good luck then!" George called as the seven entered the lift.

"Thanks.  We'll be needing it," Desiree muttered as the lift door shut.

**********

"You're late," stated Claytrall dryly.

Desiree and company stepped out of the lift.  All of them fidgeted in one way or the other.  The first chewed her lip in response.

"Sorry, sir.  We, erm, got held up."

Claytrall shook his head.

"No need to explain.  It was a late call, I'll admit.  Hmm, it's almost midnight," he said to no one in particular.

"Well, let's get moving then.  Please, sit down."

Desiree grabbed a chair and sat Krystyn down, who then fell back asleep.  She shook Krystyn on the shoulders.

"Stay awake, Krysty.  This is important."

"Oh, okay," she murmured.

Grabbing a chair for herself, Desiree plunked down.  She caught a glimpse of Aero separating Jonathan and Glitch's chairs a few feet apart, while Dorn and Biome took their seats quietly.

Once they were all seated, Claytrall nodded and began.

"A short while ago, I got a communication.  It seems that our project is running a bit slower than intended.  So in light of this, I opted to conduct the final test a bit sooner.  If this is satisfactory, I wish to start now."

As they all stood up, Desiree looked at Claytrall quizzically.

"Are we ready?  I think we have the necessary components completed, but…" she looked skeptical.

"No worries, Ms. Ambyule.  I have all of the equipment set up. I am assured that we are ready for this.  All we need to do is conduct the test.  Oh, and I also took the liberty of conducting the checklist."

"Sounds good to me," agreed Biome.

"All righty then.  Let's see if all this work was put to good use," grinned Dorn.

"Okay.  The capsule containment field is working, correct?"

"Yes, but we all know that hasn't stopped it before."

"Still… Well, the seals are in place? …Wait.  Why am I asking?  Sorry, sir.  I know you already completed the checklist."

Desiree's cheeks reddened slightly.

"No harm done.  You can't be too careful."

She inwardly gave a sigh of relief.

"Thank you sir."

"Is the pathogen secure?"

"Affirmative."

"Activate the scanner."

"Done."

"Are the reading accurate?"

"Seems like it.  No abnormalities."

"All right.  Entering final phase."

"Initiate pathogen transferal."

"Scanners are picking up readings from pathogen."

"Keep transferring."

"I'm getting increased readings!"

"That's normal.  Continue."

Desiree's eyes were wide in anticipation accompanied with fear as she gazed at the scanner readout.  If this worked, they may have just as well hit gold.  But if they failed, tons of money, supplies, and resources could metaphorically "go down the drain."

"Come on, come on!" she whispered.

"We should see results at any moment," murmured Claytrall.

A pause and then-__

"Wait!  I've got something on the scanner!  The pathogen has stopped spreading!  It-it's disappearing!  Ten percent, twenty, forty, seventy-five-it's all gone!  Just like the Sims!"

Cheers erupted throughout the room.

"Woo-hoo!"

"We did it!!"

"Pah-tay!!!"

Desiree couldn't believe it.  It worked!  She looked at Claytrall, and not surprisingly, he was only giving a reserved smile.  She almost told him to perk up, but remembered who it was in time.

"Congratulations, everyone.  Our project was a success.  This is spectacular," he applauded.

"Should we report our findings immediately?"

"No, let us wait until tomorrow." Claytrall paused.

"Actually, it seems it already is.  Let's all get some rest and meet back here at 1100 hours.  Then we can let the world know."

"Oooooh!  This is SO cool!" squealed the finally awake and vibrant Krystyn.

"Wow!  The sleepin' beauty is awake.  Amazing!"

"How couldn't I be?  This is great!"

"Looks like someone won't be needing to sleep tonight," said Dorn.  "But these two sure will."  He jerked his thumb at Jonathan and Glitch who were sitting half awake, their bodies slumped in their seats.  "Looks like it's time for that cure for the "cooties."

"Cooties?"  Claytrall looked mildly amused.

"Uh, long story doc.  Well, looks like I'm gonna get some rest done."  Dorn stretched out.  "I'm a bit tired myself."

"Good idea there.  I'll be heading out myself," agreed Desiree.  "I must say it's been an eventful night."

"Then it's settled.  You've all been a great asset to this project.  Thank you for a job well done.  Now, let's-"

That was as far as Claytrall got before all hell broke loose.

**********

***ALERT! ALERT!  ALL PERSONNEL EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY!  ALERT!***

"What in God's name is that?!" yelled Glitch.

The alarm seemed to have an instant effect on both Jonathan and Glitch.  An adrenaline rush seemed to surge through them.

"Shee-it!" exclaimed Aero.

Claytrall's mask of calm seemed slightly broken.

_No!  Not now!  This isn't the time!  Why?  Something must have happened. _ Claytrall's mind was in turmoil.

"THAT is the Maverick alarm, my colleagues," he warned.

"WHAT? No frackin' way!  There hasn't been a major attack for nearly three years!"

"It seems our luck has run out."

"Oh gawd, oh gawd, oh gawd," chanted a hyperventilating Krystyn.

"Oh NO," Jonathan gasped.

"I suggest we leave quickly.  Krystyn.  Jonathan.  Desiree.  Leave now.  You are most vulnerable.  I'll be needing help from your other colleagues."

A flash of something went across Desiree's face.

"But Claytrall, I-"

"No buts.  Go.  Try and find the Hunters and take refuge with them.  More than likely, they will be here soon enough."

All three of the humans' faces were troubled.

"Then we wish you luck.  Try and make it out alive, please," pleaded Desiree.

"Go."

And with that, the trio ran for the elevator.

"Good luck," whispered Desiree.

And again, the lift doors closed.

**********

"All right.  We need to get our "projects" out NOW.  Hook up the warp generators."

"Sir?"

"Do it."

"Why do you need our help?"

"Simple.  I need extra pairs of hands.  Biome, make sure the pathogen is still contained.  Dorn, grab yourself a weapon from that storage locker over there and keep your eyes trained on the door.  Glitch, make sure the projects are ready for warping.  And Aero.  I want you to hook up the warp generators."

All of them went to work on their assignments and were finished within a minute.

"Aero, are systems running at peak efficiency?"

"Yeah."

"I'm uploading warp data to the generators… Done."

"What are you going to do?"

Claytrall walked slowly to the back of the lab.  He began to speak with his back to the rest of the scientists.

"Once again, a simple explanation.  I'm warping the projects out of here to a safer environment."

"Like where?!  We have no idea what's going on outside the lab!"

"Don't worry about that."

"Dang!  I'm reading Mavs coming in.  They're within 200 yards of our position.  You better hurry it up!" exclaimed Dorn.

Claytrall turned to face the group with a solemn expression.

"It's been wonderful working with you all, and I hope to see you again very soon."

"The heck you mean?!"

"Huh?"

"But now it's time.  A bit earlier than expected but everything should work out."

And then Claytrall's mask shattered completely.  

"Sayonara, _my colleagues,_" he growled.

Gone was the mask of professionalism and cool calmness, and in its place seemed to be an exact opposite.

"This is messed!  I don't know what's going on!"

Claytrall just smiled darkly as he flew up in a white beam of light with two companions into oblivion.

**********

"Yaaaaahhh!  What are we going to do?"

"Guys, think!  Just warp out!  It's not that hard!" yelled Biome.

"Good idea.  I'm tapping in… NOW!"

Nothing happened.

"We're locked OUT!  Claytrall, whoever that was, must have done it!"

"Dang it guys!  The Mavs are within 75 yards from our position!"

"This is it.  Dorn, grab us some weapons."

Dorn solemnly went to the locker and took three more plasma rifles and tossed them at him comrades.

"This may be the last time we see each other, so here goes.  I'm really gonna miss you guys!  Let's do this now, even if we don't win.  It's better than just sitting and waiting for something to happen.  Let's go down fighting!"

"Yeah!"

"Let's do it!

"THEY'RE HERE!" came a startling cry.

Just then, the door buckled from an outside force.

And uttering the final words to be heard from their human companions, they raised their rifles.

"Good luck…" breathed Biome.

It started.

**********

"Damn it," muttered Claytrall.

The projects were nowhere to be found.

"The Mavericks must have put up a warp scrambler field around the entire complex!"

Warp scrambler fields only worked on large areas-at least a two-kilometer radius.  It changed the destination implied in the warp code to a random location somewhere within the field.  It was good for getting the jump on your attacker.

"Why'd they have to get smart NOW?" he growled.  "Why wasn't I warned?!"

"All that, WASTED!" 

He picked up incoming signals.  Friend or foe, he wasn't sure.

"Screw this!"  He took off in a run away from the complex.  Claytrall had only managed to land a quarter of a mile away from his original position.

Checking his scanner, he saw the signals were increasing in speed and were heading in his direction.

"This is futile," he spat. He stopped running at stood completely still.

"Come and get me, whoever you are.  I'm done."

**********

"Move, MOVE!" screamed Desiree.

She, Krystyn, and Jonathan were running.  Running to what, they didn't know.  She just prayed they'd run into some friendly faces.  It might be stupid, but it was better than waiting to be slaughtered.

Desiree was in the lead, while Jonathan was running in the rear.

"Do you WANT them to catch us?!"

Plasma fire flashed to their right.

"This way!"  If there were two opposing forces, one of them had to be friendly.

A scream sounded behind Desiree.  She whipped around with lightning agility.

Standing in front of Jonathan was a dark figure.  Jonathan just stood with a look of terror plastered across his face.

"Didn't your mother tell you to stay inside at night?" it rasped.

And with that, it shot a large ball of white-hot plasma at Jonathan, who became nothing more than ash.

"Oh dear lord," whispered Desiree in shock.

"Who's next?" it seemed to grin.

Krystyn and Desiree took off at a run.

It made a clicking sound with its tongue.  This definitely had to be one of the more advanced Mavericks.

"You can't run, and are fools for doing so," it warned.  It shot a pellet of plasma at Krystyn who immediately crumpled to the ground.  The Maverick then proceeded to dash in front of Desiree, who pulled out and ignited a glowing deep purple saber.

"Your turn, honey."

"At least give me a fighting chance!" she pleaded.  _Gimme a chance…_

It stood for a moment, pondering this.

"Fine.  This should be fun."  It tossed her a beam saber that it had been holding.  Desiree switched it on and swung it through the air in a lazy arc, getting the feel for it.

"Let's play!" it bellowed.

It whipped out another concealed saber and brought it down hard, which Desiree then blocked with her own parry.  She twisted her body and brought the saber down so that it would hit the Mavericks midsection, but it dashed out of the way.  It tried to sideswipe her with another swing, but she stopped it with a down-slash from her saber.  Her strength was wavering as the Maverick slowly was pushing the saber nearer to her body.  She had one card left.

Desiree quickly stepped to the right, putting her opponent off balance and shot at it with amazing speed, slamming the Maverick to the ground with her shoulder.

"What-? How-?  …You have dash thrusters?!  Then-"

"Got that right, buster," she said as she brought the blade down, thus ending the Mavericks life.  She stood in silence as the cool night air whipped her hair 'round.

"Got that right."

Nearby shouts caught her attention, and prayed that it wasn't more Mavericks.  Two figures appeared out of the darkness.

"Hey-Whoa momma!  We're Hunters.  We're here to help!"

Desiree realized she still had the beam saber lit.  Quickly, she switched it off.

"Sorry 'bout that.  Thank god you weren't Mavericks!"

Desiree took a silent look at her colleagues', her FRIENDS' bodies, one nothing more than dust on the breeze.

"Forgive me.  I couldn't stop it…" she pleaded quietly.

One of the Hunters cast a look over Desiree's shoulder.

"Holy-!  Did you do that?!"

"Huh?" Desiree turned her preoccupied thoughts to the two Hunters. 

"Oh.  Uh, yeah.  I don't really want to talk about it."

One of the two Hunters whistled.  

"That's a heck of a job you did there.  That was one of the more advanced Mavs.  I'm surprised you were able to slag it."

Desiree closed her eyes.

"I want to…to make them pay for what they've done."

"We could definitely use some more help in the Hunters…"

"Yeah… I'll think about it."

"Let's go.  Don't wanna get caught sittin' here like ducks out of water."

With one last glance at her friends, who five minutes ago had been live and vibrant people, she started off with the two Hunters into new unknowns.

Goodbye… 

New beginnings were upon her.

**********

Half a kilometer away… 

"Hey, come take a look at this!"

"What?  We're supposed to be scouting for Mavericks!"

"This is way better than any Maverick!"

"Oh hold on!"

The second speaker hiked up the hill.

"What-Holy heck?!  What is that doing here?"

"I don't know… Let's warp back to base and have Blaze and Cain take a look."

"I agree… But do you think they'll be angry?  I mean, we'll kind of have left our posts."

"Don't worry 'bout that.  I have a feeling this is more important than what we're doing right now."

What could be more important than scouting for Mavericks in a major attack?  Oh well.  I'll just have to trust him.

"I hope you're right."

"I _said_, don't worry about it!  Warp to base immediately!  I'll grab the package."

"Roger!"

Two blazes of light shot up, holding a find that could very well open another chapter in the Hunters' Saga.


	3. Chapter One: FastForward

__

*Author's Note: I have a character by the name of Kat in my fic that I had planned on for a long time. I couldn't tell you if having her as a character or me using the name for my nickname came first. I'm not trying self-insertion. She is her own character. And now, on with the show!

****

The Mind Traps Within

By: Kat

****

Chapter One-FastForward

__

January 23, 2128

"Slash! Come on! Parry! Oh gawd, would you look at that! That had to be the worst tactic I've ever seen! You left your whole torso open and vulnerable to attack! Use your thrusters, for chrissakes! …THANK you! Fake, then attack on their weak side! Yess! There ya go! Bring your saber up to deflect and… Good! Keep up with it."

Zero blinked lazily and stretched, tired from his verbal training session with one of the new saber rookies.

Yawning, he shook his head dejectedly. "Will they _ever_ learn?"

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to come face to face with the New Blue Bomber. A civilian dressed X nudged Zero in the stomach with his elbow.

"Tough day, huh? All that talking must have made you tired," grinned X. 

Zero rolled his eyes. "Man, watchin' these suckers takes me back to the days of your first training!"

X's face changed from one of mockery to resentment in less than a second.

"Oh come on. I wasn't _that_ bad."

"Puh-leeze!"

At a glare from X, Zero decided it might be time to change the subject.

"So uh, how's your unit doing?"

"Okay… I'm having a bit of trouble with some of the newer recruits, but they've got a lot of promise."

"Sounds good. The #0 Unit's doin' okay too. Now with peacetime, though, everything's kind of sluggish." He paused. "And you know how I hate that."

"Yeah. Never happy unless there's some action," X gave him a look of disapproval.

"NOT true! But enough is enough, you know." Zero twirled his fingers in the air. "The boredom starts to sink in…"

"That's why you need another hobby than slashing up Mavericks with your saber there," X poked Zero's saber handle with his index finger.

"Hey X, for your information, this here's my baby." Zero pulled the not yet ignited saber from the saber recharge pack attached to his armor and stroked the handle. "She's gotten me through a lot of tough times."

"Yeah, I know. You've become so attached to that thing, I'm surprised you didn't marry it."

"X, that is the oldest and lamest joke in history." At that moment, Zero decided to warp out of his armor and into a more comfortable pair of worn black jeans accompanied by a baggy t-shirt. Smiling, he pushed back a strand of his almost supernaturally long hair. "I'm married to my work."

"As if that joke isn't any worse."

"Hey, how 'bout we go get a drink and give a toast to the worst jokes in history?" 

X gaped at him. "That is your lamest excuse yet to go get a drink!" He pondered on that for a second. "But it ought to be pretty funny." Zero slapped his friend on the back.

"So what can we get ya?"

"How about a nice glass of…ginger ale?"

"You are hopeless sometimes, you know that X?"

"I do my best."

As the two comrades-in-arms walked the halls of MHHQ, they passed several other Hunters who gave them nods of acknowledgment.

"So many faces. Old and new," muttered X.

"Aw, don't get your armor sets up in a bunch. You better not go all melancholy on me now."

"Dang. You did it again."

"What?" Zero grinned devilishly. "Attempting to annoy you with old phrases? All in a day's work, my friend."

They continued in silence until they met up with another unit commander. Flare was the commander of the 15th Unit, though he had only been with the Hunters for about half a year now. His hair was a sight to behold, though in a different way than the Crimson Wonder's. Blonde spiked hair covered the top of his head, a bit reminiscent of a character from an old video game series, though not to that extreme. In the back, it was a bit shaggier, and at its lowest point, hit his shoulders. Today the Commander had opted for his favorite black leather vest and was wearing the same color t-shirt underneath with a pair of worn-out looking jeans.

Flare had shown gifted ability with a saber from the start; even more so with a Buster. It had only been a matter of time until he was promoted to Unit Commander. The 15th was probably the closest match to the abilities of the 17th and #0 Units than any other.

"Commanders," Flare nodded at the duo.

Zero appeared a bit perturbed and scowled. "Flare, you have GOT to stop doing that. You're the same rank as us, for god's sake! And we're not even on duty."

Flare pursed his lips in a show of disapproval. "I'm not as good as you two, that's for sure. You are way ahead of me in skill and experience."

Crossing his arms, X heaved a sigh. "Don't care. You're a Commander, we're Commanders. Call us by our names. Besides, I don't like being reminded of my job anyway."

Flare's shoulders slumped in defeat. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fine. But I won't like it. Not yet anyway." He wagged his finger at the two with a sly-eyed smirk. "Old habits are hard to break, you know."

"Do your best boy, otherwise I might have to whip you good, I hope ya know."

"I'd like to see you try, ZERO."

Zero harrumphed in response. "I challenge you to a sparring match tomorrow! In the rec room!" He got a bit of that maniacal grin that appeared whenever he was off to dice-and-slice a couple of Mavericks. "High danger level! Maybe we'll throw in a couple of Mavericks for fun!"

Flare narrowed his eyes. "Done! I'll be seeing you then at 1600 hours!" With a nod, he began to saunter down the hall.

"Looking forward to it!" Zero called as Flare strode out of sight. Flare raised his hand back at the other blonde hunter in acknowledgment. X raised an eyebrow in almost Spock-like interest. "Zero, you might want to watch yourself. The kid's good, I guarantee. I've watched him and his Unit in training, and they're a force to be reckoned with. They work well as a team, though sometimes Flare likes to take off and do things his own way. Kind of like you, actually."

Zero nodded in agreement. "It should be interesting, to say the least. You gonna watch?"

"If I don't have anything else to do. Which I probably won't for that matter." 

"Good." After a moment, Zero's face scrunched up in puzzlement. "By the way, who's the second-in-command of his Unit? For the life of me, I can't seem to remember."

X was silent for several seconds. Zero looked over in concern at his friend's silence. "Huh? Something wrong?"

X shook his head slightly as he unconsciously ran his fingers through his unruly black hair. "Remember about two weeks ago? The 15th and 17th were called out for a major skirmish near the Canadian and US borders. Yersa, Flare's second-in-command, got caught in the crossfire between our forces. …You can probably guess what happened."

The Crimson Hunter shook his head in disbelief, his ponytail bouncing off his back slightly. "Terrible loss. I can't believe he just got caught in the middle like that! I knew the guy had gone kaput, but I had no idea he was the Flare's second. Must have hit Flare kinda hard."

X laughed almost bitterly. "Actually, Flare and Yersa weren't very close. It actually seemed that Yersa was out for Flare's position, according to the local gossip collectors."

Zero scratched his head in bewilderment. "Why didn't the guy just apply for Command status? It's not even certain that Yersa would have been promoted to Commander even IF Flare got kicked."

X put out an uplifted palm and shrugged. "The guy had something to prove. Hopefully, that's not what got him killed." Frowning, X continued. "Pride can be a powerful motivator. And we have a first-class example with you."

Zero pursed his lips and scowled. "Don't be downing the guy who saved your miserable life by blowing himself to kingdom come."

"Believe me, I'm not trying to. It's just a fact. Somebody throws you a challenge, and you won't back down. It's just personal pride. I only hope this guy didn't think his pride was worth more than his life."

"True, true. I'll be sure to not make that mistake." Zero crossed his arms in defiance.

"Make sure you do, Zero. Make sure you do."

"Believe me X, I don't plan on "kicking the bucket" any time soon. If I do, I'll send you an early notice."

The new man in blue stopped their forward advance, pointing his finger at Zero. "Don't talk like that. I don't want to hear it."

"Fine, fine." Zero waved his arms in exasperation.

"Hmm," X muttered, trying to think of something to ask his saber-wielding friend, who had decided to pull his saber back out and throw it in the air as they continued their walk. 

"I'm hoping you have the safety on that thing."

Zero groaned. "X, I'm not that stupid to leave this thing active if-" He didn't get any further because at that moment, the green tinged saber had decided it was time to come out and give its owner a nasty surprise. 

"Aw shit!" he yelped as the beam nearly came down slicing through his hand. He jerked back just in time so the blade came tumbling to the floor. The blade end hit the ground, left a scorch mark and then continued with the handle clattering to the ground as well. Zero sheepishly picked up the lit saber and deactivated it.

X rolled his eyes. "Right, Zero. It wouldn't have done well for the top saber-wielding Hunter to slice his own hand off WITH his own weapon."

"Cain's NOT gonna be happy about that," Zero commented as he kicked the nice burn mark his saber had left on the floor. After a second, he grinned. "Not if he doesn't find out!"

Of course, several milliseconds later, the esteemed doctor's voice rang out in the hallway behind the duo.

"And what might THAT be, my friend Zero?" questioned a loud voice. Zero whipped around, muttering a quick curse under his breath. "Uh, hey Dr. Cain." He attempted to cover the charred surface with his boot.

The doctor scanned the two elite Hunters' faces. "Darn it Zero, spit it out. I know that look."

Zero's face turned completely innocent. "Whatever do you mean? I didn't do anything!"

Cain stared at Zero. "No really, I'd love to know. Did you blow a hole through a wall? Shoot somebody with your buster when you got ticked off? Destroy the stereo system in the rec room because they were playing Disco music again?"

"Oh come on, that only happened once!"

The doctor poked Zero in the chest with his cane while X leaned against the wall, pretending to look bored.

"Ah-ha!! I knew you had done that!"

The Hunter smacked himself in the forehead. "Stupid, stupid Zero. Very stupid," he muttered. "Okay, so I did blow up the stereo system. You got me. But seriously, I didn't do anything this time!"

X snorted quietly from his position against the wall. Turning quickly, Zero shot him a look. 

Putting a hand on his hip while leaning on his cane with the other hand, Dr. Cain raised his eyebrows. "That does it Zero. If X doesn't believe you, I most certainly will not."

Smacking X on the shoulder, he hissed through a clenched jaw. "Thanks a lot buddy."

X's chest heaved heavily as he glared at Zero in defiance. "You had it coming. Don't blame me for your anger management problems." 

Zero's eyes widened. "You very well know this had nothing to do with anger. And besides, who says I have an anger management problem in the first place?"

The doctor raised a finger upwards exuberantly. "So we get to the heart of the matter!" He cocked an eyebrow. "Zero, you should work on controlling your anger a bit. It really can be quite frustrating sometimes. Now, what did you do?"

"Yah!!! I DON'T HAVE AN ANGER MANAGEMENT PROBLEM ALREADY!" Zero screamed as he slammed a fist into the wall. Cracks appeared, splitting outwards from the point of contact. He stared at the damage caused by his fist dumbly. "Jesus…"

Dr. Cain's whole body slumped. "And yet again, more property damage caused by the infamous hand of Zero." He shook his head slowly and exhaled. "Zero…"

Surprisingly, Zero turned and slumped against the wall. His eyes went devoid of any emotion for several seconds as his jaw went slack. It was like staring into dark cavern without any light for a guide. "The hell…" he whispered disquietingly. The whole scene changed from slightly amusing to severely disturbing in those seconds.

Mega Man X's expression abruptly switched as well from feigned boredom to great concern at his friend's sudden change of behavior. He quickly stepped over to Zero's unmoving body and kneeled down, setting his hand on the other's shoulder. His striking blue-green eyes swept over the still face, searching. X shook Zero's shoulder lightly. "Zero, what's wrong?" he whispered quietly. Zero's eyes came slightly into focus, though still distant.

"I…I just…" His mouth stumbled over the words as if he were in a trance. Zero blinked finally and he visibly shuddered. "The anger…it just took over…I wasn't in control for that moment in time. I just…" His head bent over and his chin touched his chest. "I don't know how to stop it…" he murmured, almost inaudible.

Dr. James Cain leaned on his cane with both hands and appeared a bit alarmed. "Zero, this behavior is very unusual… You may want to check up with Blaze about this. I'm not certain what to think right at the moment. Do you have any idea what the root of this problem is?"

Zero closed his eyes. "I'm not sure…" he replied, though an inner voice whispered to him that this assumption was wrong. It whispered to him, goaded him. _…So close…so close…_ Zero didn't know what this all meant, but had the feeling it was something important. …_Oh very important Zero…_

"What?" he wheezed. "What is so important?"

"Hmm?" X questioned. "What did you say?"

The Crimson Hunter frowned and put a hand to his head. "Nothing X, nothing. I-I'm fine." He wearily pushed off the wall and stood up unsteadily.

X wasn't convinced. _What is he trying to hide? There's something not right here._ "Like hell you are!" he exclaimed. "You smash your fist into the wall, slump to the ground, float away like you're not even here, and say you're fine afterwards!? I don't think so." X crossed his arms and scowled.

Zero looked at him cold and hard. "X, drop it." The annoyance and fury in his gaze was all too evident. But X would not back down.

"I'm SICK of you trying to play the big guy here! You can AT LEAST admit there is something wrong! Dammit Zero, we're here to help! What is your problem?!"

Dr. Cain watched wide-eyed at the ongoing verbal battle between the two Hunters. 

Zero's posture straightened and he locked X in an iron-cold gaze. "My PROBLEM is people putting their noses into things that don't concern them! This is my burden to bear!"

"What?" X breathed hotly. "What is your burden?"

Zero turned his head to the side so X couldn't see his expression. An expression of pain. "It doesn't have to do with you."

X looked at his best friend in distress. "Zero, I am your friend. Whatever obstacles you need to overcome, I WILL be here for you."

He didn't reply for a moment. "…I don't know what's wrong. Those flashes of rage… I don't understand it yet." Zero raised his face to X. "But I will someday. And I will need someone to stop me…if I get out of control."

"Nothing will happen. I promise," X swore. "Never forget, we're here to help. I'M here to help."

Zero's silence was all X needed to hear to know the other understood, however grudgingly. "Fine." The other prototype finally replied. And with that, it was over.

Both finally realized Dr. Cain was still standing there, appearing shocked at the overall display. He quickly regained his composure and coughed lightly. "I will be on my way now. I must attend to some paperwork I have put off for quite a while now." With that, the doctor hobbled away on his cane to his office.

Both Hunters watched him leave in silence. "Ready for that drink?" X said, though his voice seemed withdrawn a bit.

"Definitely," agreed Zero. And the duo walked off to ease their sorrows with a bit of rum and ginger ale, each to his own. 

**********

"Ah, days like this," Whiplash smiled as he swirled his drink around in his hand. "You know what, Jyst? You really have to sit back and take a breath of fresh air once in a while. It helps you relax." 

"You don't say," commented the bartender as he dried the inside of a wet glass with a towel. "I wouldn't really know too much about that. I don't get out much."

Whiplash shook his head several times. "You really should. It lets you clear your head." He downed the rest of his drink in a gulp. "Boy this stuff is good. What is it again?"

Jyst blinked as he replied. "It's one of those tropical drinks. A Mai Tai I believe."

"Cool. Would you mind getting me another glass?"

"Not at all." The bartender leaned down and picked up a glass from the shelf underneath the counter. "So I can see you're enjoying the peacetime." It was more a statement than a question.

Whiplash nodded. "It's great really. Lets us relax, unwind. Relieves the pressure, if you will."

"I see," said Jyst. "That would account for your high spirits, no doubt." He finished pouring the concoction and slid the glass in front of Whiplash. "There ya go."

"Thanks," he said and took a sip. Whiplash closed his eyes in contentment. "This is the life."

Jyst looked at the Hunter quizzically. "If you hate war so much, why do stay a Hunter?"

Whiplash peered at Jyst wearily, adding several years to his youthful face. "I fight so I can enjoy this time, where there is no fighting and no conflict. I fight to protect the innocents." He paused slightly. "I feel it is my duty." Finally, he shrugged. "Does that answer your question?"

"Thank you. It surely did. You know, you sound a bit like X."

He smiled. "You don't say?" At that moment, Whiplash spotted a familiar face. "Hey Des, over here!" He waved the fellow Hunter over, nodding towards Jyst. "I believe you remember Desiree?"

"Yes, yes I do. A pleasure," he nodded. 

"Hi Jyst!" she greeted the bartender jovially. 

"Anything I can get you? A bit of sparkling wine? A good old-fashioned brew?"

Desiree waved her hand. "Nah, nothing for me thanks. I'll stay sober tonight." She turned to address Whiplash. "So, what's up?"

He grinned in return. "Nothing, except for enjoying this peace and quiet."

Desiree nodded. "Yeah, me too. Oh, by the way, don't you have a sim tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged and continued. "I was wondering if you wanted to go grab something for lunch with me and Kat at that little café on the corner a couple blocks away. Some company with friends."

Nodding in agreement, he replied. "Sounds good. You want to meet at 1230?"

"Cool. Oh also, did you here about the match tomorrow?"

He squinted at Desiree quizzically. "Match?"

She pushed back her dark hair and nodded. "Some people overheard a conversation between Flare and Zero. It looks like they're going to have a sparring match at 1600 hours. It seems as if it will be action-packed. You want to watch?"

"Wow. A match between those two will be really interesting. Heck, I'd pay to see that."

Desiree tilted her head. "Be glad we don't. So I take it that's a yes?"

"Sure. Isn't Kat in Flare's unit?"

"Mm-hmm. She says the guy can be quite a hard-ass sometimes, but an overall good Commander, though she'll feel bad for whoever ends up being his new second-in-command. He can be quite hard to get along with."

"Understandable, from what I've seen of him." A moment of silence passed between them until the Mess Hall doors swished open. A somber looking X and Zero walked in and headed over to them, presumably to get a drink.

Whiplash examined their faces. "Nyeh. Looks like something's got those two down."

"You don't say," remarked Desiree. "You going to say anything to them?"

Whiplash's forehead creased. "If anything, you should say something. You're a Unit Commander."

"Pfft. You're the one in X's Unit, for Pete's sake."

"Fine. Then we'll just sit here and mind our own business."

Just then, X took a seat two seats away, while Zero sat to the right of him.

"Hi," ventured Desiree. Zero looked at each of them and nodded, while X actually replied.

"Nice to see you," he acknowledged. Zero decided it was time to order. 

"Hey Jyst. Can you grab me a rum and coke, and give X here a ginger ale? Make mine three parts rum, one part coke."

Jyst shrugged vaguely. "Whatever you say, then." He turned to mix Zero's drink and pour X the ale.

X addressed the two once again. "So what are you two doing here?"

Desiree replied. "Ah, just enjoying the quiet and having a nice talk." She continued. "What about you two?" Whiplash's eyes widened and he kicked her under the counter.

"Ow!" she exclaimed as she glared at Whiplash. 

X replied nonchalantly. "Just here for a drink and some downtime." Jyst handed the two veterans their drinks.

"I see." All of them sipped their drinks and were quiet for a second. 

Desiree stood up. "Well, I gotta go. Plus, I have to tell Kat our plans for tomorrow."

Nodding, Whiplash stood up. "Yeah, me too. I'm gonna go get some rest."

X raised his eyes and looked at the second Hunter who had spoken. "I'll be seeing you at the sim tomorrow then?"

"Yes, sir. Good night, sirs."

"Night," called X, while Zero once again remained silent. Desiree and Whiplash left, exiting the Mess Hall doors at the same time. X sighed.

"Zero, you really should at least try to say something. They'll begin to wonder."

"Let 'em wonder," grumbled Zero, and he took a gulp of his rum and coke.

"Whatever. Anyway, I should head out too. It's getting late."

Zero gave X as much a smile as he could muster. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah," X said. "See you." He then consecutively left the room. 

Alone sat Zero in the dim lighting of the now quiet room. Sighing, he stood up slowly and walked with a steady gait to the exit himself. He stopped at the exit for a second, then slowly walked on to greet the night. "Tomorrow is another day," he sighed. And the doors swished shut.

Jyst walked back out from behind the door by the counter. "Ah, the hard life a Hunter leads, in wartime and peace." He shook his head dismally. "Good night, all." And the lights of the Mess Hall darkened and disappeared, until again needed. After all, tomorrow was another day.


	4. Chapter Two: Revisited Deception

**The Mind Traps Within**

By: Kat

**Chapter Two-Revisited Deception**

Sunlight filtered into the room, granting it the first vestige of a new day. A few birds chirped here and there, but it still seemed a bit too early for the majority of the rest of the population, animals, humans, and reploids alike. Lying peacefully was the occupant of the cramped quarters, in her last moments of slumber. As she awakened, her hand shot to the side of her hip and fingered a small irregularity in the side of her armor. A hidden compartment opened to reveal the tip of a glinting metal edge. Sighing in relief, the armor-clad individual finished easing the last bits of sleep from her systems, and she shook her head slightly.

"Oh god, what am I doing up this early?" she moaned. Checking her internal chronometer, she was right in her assumption. It was oh-six-hundred, and the slight lighting of the room reinforced this fact.

Pushing the lid of her confining stasis capsule, she took in a deep breath to clear her still-dull senses. "I am NOT a morning person," she complained loudly to herself. 

Yawning, she stood up and stretched for a good few seconds. Her eyes opened slightly in a squint as she took a look at her arms, which were covered with a medium-blue shade material, while her wrists were encased in a hard titanium substance; they were otherwise known as wrist gauntlets. 

"Ach. Why in the world do I still have this on?" Her gaze traveled downwards, all the way to the tip of her armored boots. A few foggy memories entered into her consciousness instantaneously at the self-stated question.

"Oh, I remember. I was working in the rec room real late and got too tired to even make the effort to warp out of my armor." Her gloved fingers massaged the bridge of her nose. "I had better stop talking to myself before someone thinks I'm headed to the loony bin." 

A blinding light surrounded her and quickly faded, her blue and black armor replaced by a blue v-necked shirt, which was covered partly by a pearl-white colored vest. To finish the ensemble, her jeans were a dusky blue with a white pair of shoes with black streaks.

This reploid was a bit odd if you were to consider the last statement. Most reploids have permanently attached dash boots, and while they can warp from their armor, the boots remain. But with this one, the fact was not valid.

"Much better," she muttered in approval, examining her outfit with a quick sweep from her blue-eyed gaze. Mentally, she contemplated her next move of the day and quickly came up with a solution. "Now for a bit of breakfast, then."

With a quick two-step, she entered one of the near-deserted hallways of MHHQ. During a period of Maverick activity, many Hunters could be seen striding through the beige halls in early morning, but since this was not the case, most chose to stay in and sleep for a bit longer. The female Hunter walked with a slow but purposeful stride to her intended destination–the Mess Hall. She hummed a spontaneous little ditty as she walked.

"Oh woe is she, no sleep for me. So unfair, no one cares."  Her chest heaved heavily in a sigh from realization of what she was doing. "Oh what a sad life I lead."  She paused.  "Maybe that loony bin idea isn't so bad after all." The Hunter in question continued her slow, relaxing walk onward.

Only passing three other individuals on her way, the female made her way to the Mess Hall doors. Entering the hall, an odd phrase came to mind. 

"Welcome to the realm of the living dead," she murmured. The statement was generally true to some extent as she caught sight of the few others in the room. Dreary, glossed-over gazes seemed the standard for the majority of people seated in the room, with one or two bright-eyed and perky individuals thrown in here and there. More sleepless nights and late training it seemed, though she didn't consider hers sleepless exactly.  Just cut short.

Stepping up to the kitchen staff counter, she cleared her voice. "Uh, scrambled eggs with some bacon. Scratch that. Just give me a bagel with cream cheese on the side." Within seconds, a member of the morning kitchen staff handed her a plate. Smiling in response, she picked up the plate and took a seat at a nearby table. "The wonders of our kitchen staff. Almost anything for anyone," she sighed with relish.

Moments passed, and her happiness quickly subsided into boredom at her surrounding environment. Tapping her fingertips on the tabletop, she took a small bite of her bagel and swallowed. "This is why I don't get up early. One, it's boring as all get out, and two… Well, it's just too darn early." Her appetite quickly disappeared and she stood, getting ready to toss the half-eaten bagel. A pair of cool hands set themselves on the upright Hunter.

"Wait just a minute there! Someone hasn't finished their breakfast!"

The standing Hunter whipped around, her fists clenched, ready to kill the idiot who decided to surprise her.

"Yikes! I forgot I shouldn't sneak up on you like that. Kat, you should know my voice by now!" a startled Desiree exclaimed. "Calm down!"

An embarrassed Kat relaxed and used one of her now unclenched hands to run a few fingers through her blonde hair. "Oopsie there. Sorry, it's just kind of a reflex reaction I have."

Desiree gestured her hand in dismissal at the apology. "I understand. It comes with the job, I know. So what are you doing up so early? I don't believe I've ever seen you up before oh-eight-hundred hours in the past few months."

Kat tilted her head quizzically before responding to the other Hunter. "I don't know; I kind of just woke up."

"Ah, it happens to the best of us. Care to take a walk with me?"

"Gladly."

The two walked passed the sparse crowds of dreary Hunters and exited the Mess doors. Desiree clasped her hands behind her back as they began their stroll. "So, did you get my message?"

Kat responded, a note of puzzlement seeping into her voice. "Can't say I did." Their footfalls resounded quietly off the corridor walls in between the silence from the conversation.

As Desiree nodded, a lock of her dark hair fell in front of her no less exotic bronzed face. "When I reached your room last night, there was no answer. I left you a voice message with the computer, but I figured you wouldn't check anyway."

"You would be correct in that assumption. I was in heavy training for a good part of the day and was so exhausted I just went back to my room for rest."

"Mmm. Well, I talked to Whiplash and he agreed to meet us at the café at 1230. Oh, and about the match…" She drifted to a stop for the moment.

"Match?"

"Yeah. Whiplash and I are going to the bout between Zero and Flare at 1600."

"Holy! Those two are having a match?!" Kat was completely surprised while also appearing a bit thrilled, eyes wide in anticipation. "That would be fun to watch. Two of the great powerhouses of MHHQ facing off!"

"You can come with us if you want."

Kat reacted by smirking as she responded to the invitation. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

They came across a group of rookie Hunters in the quiet hallway, looking as if they were ready for some early morning training. One of the unassuming hotshots whistled over his shoulder at the pair. Desiree and Kat glanced at each other, both appearing just a little ticked. 

Desiree breathed under her breath. "Immature."

Kat glanced at her and nodded. "Yes but…I really feel like starting up some fun to break up the early morning bore. You?"

"Gotcha covered."

Both Hunters flashed at the same moment, as if linked by some psychic connection: one in blue and black, the other in purple and shimmering silver. Desiree became a lightning blur as she kicked up her dash thrusters, pinning the offending rookie to the wall as his friends peered on in shocked interest. Once again, Kat opened up the secret compartment on her armor, but this time pulling out the piece stored within. Slowly and menacingly, she held up a five-point star of gleaming metal to the pinned Hunter's neck.

She hissed and breathed hotly on his neck. "I know it's not normal for another Hunter to hurt one of their own but…"

Desiree grinned darkly and joined up in the scene by pulling out her saber and igniting it, letting the glow deepen her features. "Well, we're not all angels. Never mess with a Hunter, ESPECIALLY a female Hunter. What should we do to this one?" She waved her saber frighteningly close to the rookie's face, which was now covered in a slight film of sweat.

Kat's eyes narrowed. Her face was shadowed from the early morning light, making her expression seem even more deadly. "We could slit his throat… Or dismember him, piece by piece. That would be fun, don't you think?" The already terrified rookie's eyes widened and he gave a mew of terror that came out as a squeak.

"You're–you're Mavericks!"

"Ha." Desiree waved her unoccupied hand. "No." Her voice dropped and could barely be heard. "But that won't stop us, will it Kat?"

The other sneered. "Right. But I feel like I'm in a relatively good mood today…"

One of the restrained Hunter's friends peeped up, his voice scratchy. "That's your GOOD mood?"

Kat gave the speaker such a glare that she thought he might faint right then and there. "I think we're done with this one. But be forewarned! Next time we won't be so lenient."

That was Desiree's cue to release the rookie from his stiffened position against the wall. She deactivated her saber while Kat pocketed the star of metal that had occupied the space near the rookie's neck. The hotshot was now reduced to a whimpering invalid as he stood, still racked with fear.

"Leave before we change our minds," hissed Kat sinisterly, giving her final warning.

And without further ado, he shot away and around the corner, followed by his other equally frightened friends. The duo stood in their menacing poses for several seconds of silence until they burst into a fit of laughter.

Kat pretended to wipe an imaginary tear from her eye. "Ah, another group of rookies scared shitless! Priceless."

Shaking her head, Desiree couldn't stop herself from grinning. "Why do I help you with this? But that WAS pretty amusing."

"Amusing? That was one of the funniest things I've seen in my life! Did you see his face? He nearly had a freaking heart attack!" She brought a hand to her head, still grinning like a maniac. "That was WAY better than last time."

"I agree; I'd have to give our performance a definite 10 this time, though you DID do most of the talking," granted Desiree with a sweep of her hand.

"Thank you, thank you ladies and gentleman!" Kat chuckled, bowing to her imaginary audience. She took a few deep breaths, her grin fading, though she let a faint hint of one remain. Her armor disappeared in a flash, replaced by her casual outfit, with Desiree following suit. The two resumed their walk as if nothing had happened, with Desiree once again clasping her hands back behind her back.

Glancing at the superior-ranked Hunter, Kat sighed. "So, anything else new? Today had been full of surprises, hasn't it?"

Desiree's face became a little more serious to the inquiry. "Actually, now that you mention it, there is. You know how they've been looking for a new sub commander for your unit?"

Kat frowned in consternation. "And who is "they" exactly?"

"The unit commander has some say in it, but the choice is mainly up to Cain by viewing training records. Flare may have suggested one or two possibilities, or none at all knowing him, but Cain is the one who says if it goes through."

The blue Hunter's frown deepened as she mulled over the fact. "And pray tell, did they find a replacement?"

Desiree nodded solemnly. "It seems they have. The new sub commander will be announced at 1100 hours tomorrow, but it won't be as blatant as that. They'll be called over to the War Room, and only the Unit Commanders know of the actual importance of the call."

"So why tell me this?"

Blinking, Desiree unclasped her hands and put one out with an uplifted palm. "One, it has to deal with your Unit. Two, I believe that you are one of the prime choices for the position."

Kat stopped suddenly and looked at the commander in stunned disbelief, her body rigid. "Me? In your opinion, or officially?"

Desiree sighed at the question, lips pursed. "Both, actually. I don't have an official confirmation, but you could be the new sub commander of the 15th."

"Holy crap." Kat leaned against the closest wall for support as she went limp. "Me, a sub commander? You've got to be kidding."

"No jokes, Kat," Desiree said in all seriousness.

The Hunter chewed her lip as her mind was slowly trying to process the importance of what Desiree had said. "I don't know if I should be happy, or scared out of my freakin' godforsaken mind."

Taking up a position on the opposite wall, Desiree crossed her arms, her head slightly bowed downward. "Do not forget it's unofficial, though. It IS a large responsibility and should be taken in all seriousness. Even though it is not a full Commander, you would have a tremendous part of making the decisions taken within your Unit. And also do not forget that if anything were to happen, you would be in charge."

Kat covered her eyes and leaned her head backward to touch the wall. "Ach. I feel a nice migraine coming on." For a moment, neither Hunter spoke. Suddenly, Kat banged her head on the wall brutally. "Shit!"

Desiree, appearing surprised at the others' sudden outburst, stood up at full height immediately. "What?!" Her face and voice appeared equally panicked.

Banging her head again, though not as violently as before, Kat covered her face with her hands. "We're talking about the 15th, right?"

"Yes," Desiree said uneasily. "Why?"

She uncovered her face and looked at the bearer of news. "That would mean I'm with FLARE, right!?"

"Yes," repeated Desiree, seeing where this was all going.

A strangled choking sound came from Kat's throat. "It's freaking hard enough working under him! Being his second means I'd actually have to _talk to him! He can be cocky, won't listen to anybody when he has his mind set, and will go do whatever the hell he wants! Oh kill me now," she moaned._

Desiree widened her eyes and blew air out through her lips quietly. "I guess you'll just have to learn how to make a working relationship with him."

Groaning, Kat looked at Desiree with one eye. "You make it sound so easy. How are YOU and your second?"

"Well, we get along fairly well. But it's not like everybody will be the same; you should know that."

"I wish." A disgruntled Kat stood up, trying to regain a somewhat composed appearance. "Whatever happens, wish me luck."

"I do, don't you worry. We're still on for lunch, right?"

"Yeah. Where's Whiplash, anyway? I thought he was another one of those early risers, like you."

Desiree shrugged. "He's probably catching up on his sleep today. He has a training sim with X and the 17th in about two hours." Her mouth curved downwards in a half-frown. "And he had better not get too beat up. Don't want him in stasis for a few hours; he'll miss lunch."

Nodding in agreement, Kat began to pace down the hall with Desiree in tow, the latter trying to catch up with Kat's quick stride. Desiree peered at her quizzically with a sideways glance. "Something the matter?"

"I just need to walk off the news a bit, that's all."

"Remember, it isn't official. You might not even be the one, you know."

Kat shook her head morbidly. "Now that the cat's out of the bag, metaphorically speaking, it'll happen. It's just the way things are; what goes up must come down, what comes around goes around, and all that stuff. But the experience should be quite interesting to say the least."

"You sound so sure," Desiree muttered skeptically.

"I am sure. Dead sure."

"Whatever," said Desiree, deciding to change the topic of conversation. "So anyway…" The duo's voices faded as they continued their walk through the labyrinth of hallways in the infamous Maverick Hunter Headquarters.

**********

The murmur of voices filled the room, becoming a muted undertone. Hunters were standing, talking in groups inside the large room, all of them having protection against their opposing Maverick forces. Some carried sabers, but most were only equipped with busters. It was a rainbow of colors, glares being created by the lighting of the room upon the Hunters' multi-colored armors.

The masses of Maverick Hunters suddenly stood at attention, all of them hearing the doors swish open. Inward walked Mega Man X, clad in his battle-weary blue armor. 

"At ease," he called, not overbearingly but loud enough so everyone could hear. The standing hordes relaxed, their gazes still locked on the Commander of the 17th.

"I don't exactly love doing these sims as you all know, but Cain and I agree that we have to do them occasionally in case of a sudden Maverick attack. Don't worry about it; just do your best. Everyone, check yourselves and make sure that you're fully equipped and ready. Do not forget that though this is a simulation, you will feel the blasts caused by our holographic opponents." X paused, letting his unit take this all in. "I know many of you know this, but I am doing it for the benefit of the newer rookies that have recently joined the 17th. Congrats, by the way. Comprende everyone?"

Murmured approvals whispered throughout the crowds. X nodded. "All right, everyone. Time to begin. Computer, begin simulation 1HUNT2X."

**Simulation verified. Date: December 13, 2118. Program engaged.**

The air shimmered around the Hunters and solidified into a seemingly solid environment with holographic Landchasers filling the supposed hangar of MHHQ. A couple of the Hunters sucked in a deep breath in realization of what and where the simulation actually was. 

X sighed himself, remembering what terrors and pain this day had wrought. But that was part of the reason he had chosen it in the first place. It was time again to face the demons, though for the most part, he would be a bystander. That day years ago, he had turned from a broken soul to a vengeful warrior once again.

"All right everyone. Time to saddle up," X said resolutely, getting on the nearest Landchaser. The other members of the 17th took their positions on their Landchasers, ready to face the first threat posed by the X-Hunters as a team. Back then, no one had made it through the initial attack, except of course for X. It had turned out that the Maverick attack was only a distraction in the first place, adding insult to injury. They were determined not to let the same fate befall them, holographic or not. Glances were exchanged, the Hunters realizing the importance of this simulation. This 17th was not going to fail like they had those few years ago.

"Let's go," muttered X. Twenty-three Landchaser cycles revved to life, filling the bay with a vibrating hum. For the second time, X interlinked his warp generator signal with his cycle's. This was all so fake…but at the same time all so real. Then, twenty-three Hunters shot up, Landchasers in tow, their warp signatures leaving behind blurs of color. Soon, they would retouch down in no different a place than they were now, all of it just visual imagery to fool the mind.

**********

Whiplash coalesced, now sitting in a desert wasteland, his Landchaser still thrumming. He watched as the frontline Hunters shot off to their destination until he followed himself. Whiplash noticed that X had chosen to remain in the back of the pack, probably to keep an eye on the unit's progress. They _were here only for training after all, though he knew this program held great importance to X and the unit as well. He trained his eyes ahead, looking for signs of the faux Maverick base. The attack may have been a distraction, but it was no less deadly._

Suddenly, a blast of white plasma energy blew into the sand five feet to his left, nearly knocking a fellow Hunter off his cycle. More blasts followed this one, scattering the Unit even further apart. A stray shot caught one of the frontline Hunters, who yelled a loud curse as he was thrown from the Landchaser. 

The only difference in this simulation would be that no one could die. But they might be knocked into stasis for a bit, depending on how hard they got hit. That guy wouldn't be awake for a while, that was for sure.

Whiplash kept his gaze sharp, determined not to be struck. The base was becoming visible as they were nearing, while the weapons fire became equally more pronounced. Two, three, and then five Hunters were hit, two with the same blast. Whiplash grimaced as he saw one of the 'chasers blow upon a direct hit to its fusion generator, throwing the rider back into the desert sands. That left seventeen Hunters, but they were still a ways from the base. This part of the exercise was more on being able to evade, and your skills as an operator of a Landchaser had to be fairly advanced. This would be a definite indicator for several of the Hunters to catch up on their driving expertise.

Whiplash saw a plasma bullet come his way, a streak against the wind. He veered the 'chaser left, but saw a follow-up shot come directly at him. It was coming too quickly to evade, so he did the only thing he could. He dashed. 

Pressing the thruster speeds beyond their normal range, the Landchaser did a wheelie, the plasma energy underneath pulsing. The Landchaser cut through the deadly blast like a knife through butter. He gave a small whoop of approval, easing the speeds back into the green. 

"Thank god," he murmured, thinking of what could have happened if he hadn't pushed the 'chaser beyond its normal capabilities. 

Tiny bits of sand flew up in Whiplash's face, causing him to blink as he felt the stinging sensation caused by their bombardment. _Would have done me good to have a visor, he thought bitterly. __But X did it without one, so I should be able to as well. __Plus, it's not that bad, anyway. He forced his thoughts away from the minor annoyance and concentrated on the approach. _

Suddenly, he heard his comm fritz to life.

_"This is Commander X. All remaining Hunters, concentrate your attack onto the incoming Mavericks and make the path clear to the entrance of the base. There will be a 'mech guarding the entryway, so if any of you can get a clear shot, by all means take it. Once inside, disengage your engines; the 'chasers won't have room to maneuver. We'll take it by foot." X cut the communication._

Whiplash silently acknowledged the instructions as he checked the internal operations energy of the Landchaser. It was down to 73%, having caught a couple of stray but nearly harmless blasts. He was safe–for now.

Keying the weapons systems, he easily shot down a few Maverick hover-drones that were making their rapid approach. They blew upon impact, the shrapnel so minute it couldn't be perceived by the eye. 

Finally, the faux base became completely visible and a large figure swam into view, presumably the 'mech. The laser fire was thick, like pea soup, and carried out with precision. Slowly, the Maverick plasma fire was picking off more Hunters. Their numbers soon dwindled to a mere nine of the original twenty-three; those remaining were, needless to say, the best pilots. Whiplash inwardly thanked that he had checked up on his navigating skills two weeks before with a buddy from the 17th. 

…Actually, the two had been racing across a holographic raceway, complete with obstacles that guaranteed to give you a migraine for the next few days when struck. He had written it all off to a heavy training session when inquired to the heaviness of the wear-and-tear his armor had received. But Cain didn't need to know that.

_Concentrate, dammit! His mind hissed at him. __Don't need to make the same mistake I did then._

Once again, his comm came to life. _The hell…? It can't be X again._

"Hey Whiplash, keep your eyes on the road, will you? That blast almost made its mark. Don't want the same thing to happen again, do you? Be grateful I didn't make a bet on this one, or you might have lost again then and there."

Whiplash paused in making a reply, vainly trying to take a couple of potshots at the gigantic 'mech that was making a fast approach. One closely shaved one of the 'mech's legs, making it stumble for a moment, but it quickly regained its balance.

"Freez, cut it out. I'm gonna be much more careful this time, okay? Just concentrate on your attack and don't worry about me."

An exasperated sigh sounded on the other end. "What makes you my superior? We're the same rank."

"I've been in this Unit way longer, making me much more experienced. Now shut up and try to take out that freaking 'mech."

"Yes sir," Freez grumbled after a second's pause. He cut the communication abruptly.

More shots were taking their place on the thickly armored 'mech's carapace. Whiplash shook his head as the wind pushed past his face. None of the shots were directly on target and weren't causing much damage. The 'mech was as strong and deadly as ever. But moments later, he considered taking back the statement.

A shot flew past from behind him in the blink of an eye, an inferno of fury and plasma energy combined in one. The 'mech didn't know what hit it. 

The unbridled energy crackled across the imposing frame and it shuddered in response. Another shot followed, knocking out the right leg of the behemoth, and it fell to the sand, slightly lopsided. It took no more than an instant for Whiplash to figure out what had happened. 

It was X.

The once daunting figure of the 'mech was reduced to nothing more than a bump on the horizon, its systems struggling for survival. Finally, it gave in to the imminent overload as the exposed circuitry crackled with uncontrolled energy. The 'mech's fusion generator detonated, causing a deafening explosion. And then, all was quiet except for the hum of nine Landchasers as they set down inside the main entrance of what seemed to be a once thriving factory.

Disengaging the thrumming engine, Whiplash quickly hopped off the ergonomically correct seat of the 'chaser, landing as quietly as one could in armor. He primed his buster for action as he awaited the approach of incoming Mavericks. None revealed themselves inside their seemingly unoccupied portion of room, while silence reigned in all its glory.

His stance relaxed as he turned to face the remains of the unit. Whiplash locked gazes with a now fiery tempered X. His aquamarine eyes crackled with unbelievable intensity, remembrance of this day their guiding factor. Whiplash nodded in silent respect and acknowledgment to the champion of three Uprisings. X's eyes closed as he returned the gesture, briefly smothering the fire from within.

"There's no time for small talk; the Mavericks will be on us in moments. Let's finish this while we can," X stated with finality. No other words were exchanged.

All Whiplash could hope for was that he wouldn't be hurting for a long time coming later.

For he knew all too well how this confrontation ended.

**********

Whiplash struggled not to scream as he plunged freefalling into the darkness. The weightlessness he was experiencing in his stomach was anything but pleasant. The whole incident left him disoriented as he tried to regain some form of balance–until he slammed back first into the ground. His left shoulder struck the surface solidly and his back arched in agony, a strangled cry escaping his lips. Whiplash's breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to regain the air he had lost from the jarring impact and ease the horrendous pain he felt roil through his body.

Slowly, he struggled to his feet and attempted to clear his senses from the thick soup that threatened to leave him helpless. Rubbing his forehead with one palm, Whiplash morphed his opposing hand into the deadly buster that was the trademark of his life as a Hunter.

"Sh–" he started to moan, until blinding lights shown down from above upon the now revealed expansive maintenance bay, startling the bruised Hunter. Scaffolding rose up high in the air, seemingly ten times his height.

Shielding his eyes, he slowly peered upwards at the tremendous sight. "The heck? It couldn't possibly be _that big–?!"_

He was consequently thrown to the ground again as a deafening clang sounded throughout the bay.

Picking himself up, he caught sight of the monstrosity that had caused the whole room to shake. "_No way," he murmured incredibly._

The behemoth reached stories tall, an astounding mass of armor and circuitry. Whiplash snapped out of his stupefied wonderment as he realized the danger the giant posed.

"Whoo boy," he breathed quietly. "Let's get moving."

Quickly, he positioned himself under the edge of the nearest piece of scaffolding. Whiplash jumped and grabbed hold with astonishing dexterity. Why bother with ladders?

Pushing off the side, his fingers grasped onto the side of the second upraised platform with ease. Suddenly, the whole structure shook slightly. It caught Whiplash by surprise and his hands slid off. Rapidly falling a few feet, he hastily grasped onto the first platform's side to stop his descent. Out of the corner off his eye, he saw the giant's foot had moved forward towards the scaffolds. 

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he chided himself angrily. "Never let your eyes stray from the target. Basic training," he huffed for a second time. The platform shook again as the behemoth took yet another step.

"Time to stop dilly-dallying," he muttered. Bending his knees, he pushed off again and grabbed the second scaffold once more. Again, the tremors.

"Come _on," he hissed as his body tensed for the next leap. Hurling himself into the air, Whiplash engaged his dash systems, giving him a few added ergs of thrust. Flying through the air, he shot past one platform. Frantic as to not miss his window of opportunity, he took hold of the edge of the next with a single hand. He hung like laundry out to dry, gently swinging back and forth._

Promptly, he swung his legs over and onto the last scaffold. Still on his hands and knees, Whiplash began to rise but swiftly dropped flat to the surface as he felt a tidal wave of air pass over his head. He tipped his head upwards to spot what had caused the disturbance.

The behemoth was directly to his right, with a giant arm equipped with deadly "hands", if they could even be called that, now crossing its body. It had taken a swipe at him!

Whiplash decided to retract his assumption as he heard a sickening crunch reverberate off the walls behind him. He leaped up and swung around to face the source of the collision.

Three scaffolds away lay a battered Freez, his white and pale blue scarred and dented from the impact. He was lying in a crumpled heap, his chest heaving heavily. Slowly, the bruised and slightly bloody Hunter began to stand. Leaning on his right leg, he brought up the opposing one to rise…and howled as he crumpled to the floor again, his left leg jutting out at an odd angle.

Whiplash grimaced. Suddenly, a blast of plasma came hurtling over his shoulder and struck the head of the beast with dead-on accuracy. Blinking furiously, he noticed what an opportunity he was missing. Raising his arm, he released the charge he had built up on his way into the interior of the maintenance bay. The level three plasma fire was an orb of crackling energy and it slammed as with the last shot using perfect precision. 

The monster's yellowed eyes flickered at the impact. Its hand that had struck Freez now came hurtling toward him in a show of power. Whiplash dropped and rolled. The claw missed him by inches. A groan sounded behind him as he spun shooting plasma at the head of the humongous mechaniroid. The giant flinched slightly and once again waved at him like he were a fly. Whiplash ducked as the hand safely flew over his head.

Taking a moment, he caught a glimpse of the origination of the moan. A Hunter two platforms back was clutching his shoulder in pain. The wound was bleeding profusely, but Whiplash knew that soon it would almost certainly stop because most likely, it was already sealing itself off internally. This all passed in just a second…

But that moment was all the mechaniroid needed to gain the upper hand. Literally.

As Whiplash turned around, buster raised, the claw caught him in the side. In a sense, the thing had backhanded him.

Dots of sparkling light decorated Whiplash's vision as he took the blow in full stride. He was sent flying backwards and landed four platforms behind his original position, skidding on his backside across the metal surface. He fell off the platform and weakly latched onto the side with one hand, leaving him dangling.

With no small effort, he hoisted himself up and collapsed onto the platform. Coughing, he was surprised to see blood splatter, marring the gleaming metal. He gingerly touched his side without bothering to look down; his fingers came back warm and sticky. Grimacing, he finally peered downwards and spotted the tremendous gash that was covering a good portion of his side. The glistening property of the substance made bile rise in his throat, and he struggled to keep it in check.

"How…" Whiplash's voice wavered. "It's not supposed to–"

He gasped as an acute wave of pain washed over him. 

"Hurt this much," he finished weakly. It seemed he had underestimated the total destructive power the monstrosity could pack.

Breathing deeply, he pushed with trembling arms and attempted to right himself, but failed. His arms were splayed out and his chest was heaving on the cold and uninviting surface, now partially slick from his own fluids.

Whiplash caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. The Hunter with the wounded shoulder was fruitlessly bombarding the immense 'mech's frame in rapid succession, but its attention would not waver from the still bleeding mess lying on the scaffold two counts away.

It somehow jumped sideways –jumped!– and landed solidly behind the platform Whiplash was sprawled upon. Its yellow eyes betrayed no emotion, but he could have sworn they flashed with something, perhaps vexation. It must have been imagined, for it was unable to even have the ability to "feel" anything. 

"It's only the head," he rasped. "It's only the head!" He tried to raise his voice for the other Hunter, but it was no use. _Where are those goddamn fools! He inwardly screamed. Most likely they were injured, trampled, or making their way up to the top to face the giant._

Forming his arm cannon, he began to build a charge from his haphazard position on the scaffold, but he knew it was pointless.

The paw of the massive 'mech positioned itself directly over Whiplash, poised to strike. He struggled to get his legs to move, but their response was sluggish. Closing his eyes, he awaited the crushing blow that if in real combat could no doubt end his life easily. 

It never came.

Befuddled, he peered upward and caught sight of his savior. X was standing next to him, completely outfitted in his glittering armor from the second Uprising. His appearance must have surprised the monster, or at least made it reanalyze the situation. X air-dashed two platforms away and released a seemingly weak level-two charge at the beast's head with lightning quickness. 

It concentrated on the grand armored X, leaving Whiplash to breathe easy for a moment. Blinking, he realized that he still had a charge built up. Suddenly he knew what X was doing. Not only was he allowing Whiplash to stay conscious, he was giving him the opportunity to take an open shot at the mechaniroid's head.

"Bless you X," he murmured. With determination, he pulled himself up to onto his knees. Raising the buster, he kept his eyes on the giant target that was provided. A sizzling bolt of energy flew from the barrel and left its mark on the mechaniroid. 

It stopped momentarily, not knowing whether to turn around and face his other attacker or keep its attention on X. That was all the time X needed.

Glowing a vague purple, X released the charge he was holding. The almighty level four charge, even more powerful than most Hunters were equipped with. Only the newer models were outfitted with the option, and some were not even given that for fear of rebellion. It spit energy and collided with the head of the 'mech. The abuse was too much for it.

A whine built up and filled the room, and the 'mech's eyes flickered unstably. Suddenly, the entire frame exploded, raining fluid and junked pieces of metal and machinery upon everyone and everything. The barrage lasted for quite a bit and after a few seconds finally concluded with a resounding clang.

Whiplash looked around hesitantly, astounded. All was quiet.

"Thank god," he breathed, doubling over.

He now noticed that his wound had sealed itself off, but he _had lost a fairly substantial amount of blood. Whiplash found himself a little lightheaded. _

X was currently helping Freez stand up, letting the sore Hunter lean on him for support. Noticing that they were still suspended a few stories in the air, X realized they were still in-program. 

"Computer, end simulation," he said. The air shimmered again and solidified into a seemingly simple one level room.

Whiplash found himself disoriented, one from the loss of blood and two, finding himself on the ground again. Attempting to stand, he stumbled and almost fell, his head swimming. X suddenly appeared next to him, catching the bleary-eyed Hunter. X winced, spotting the gash and the pool on the floor that still remained.

"Damn," murmured X. "Let's get you to the Med Center."

Whiplash swallowed thickly and slightly shook his head.

"No sir," he coughed. "Get the others. I'll be fine." He was still having trouble focusing on his surroundings and his eyes seemed to be clouding over.

The commander rolled his eyes at the obvious display of heroics. "I don't think so. We don't have time to argue about this." He eyed the wound openly.

Whiplash stood his ground as best he could. "I'll just warp in sir." He smiled grimly. "Don't need me tracking blood around." 

"Good point," a slightly dismal X conceded. "Try not to let Blaze get to you," he offered as final words of encouragement.

"Can do." Whiplash nodded and shot up in a blaze that would reappear momentarily in the Med Center of MHHQ.

Sighing, X looked around at the sad conglomeration of wounded Hunters. Some were peeved about simply getting shot off their bikes; others had more serious injuries from the Maverick factory's obstacles or the giant itself.

"Who am I kidding?" he muttered quietly. "He was the worst one injured." Miffed, he took another look at the weary pack. Inwardly shrugging, he breathed out again. "Not like I would have been any help anyway. I'm no doctor."

Finishing his assessment, X looked upon the masses one more time. "Those of you injured, get yourselves over to Blaze in the Med Center." A wave of groans rolled throughout the crowds.

X waved his hands exasperatedly. "Would you rather be sitting here in pain or just having to deal with a lousy bedside manner? She's not that bad, people." A series of grumbles greeted him.

X's mood changed suddenly to one of a dismal nature. He frowned.  "Enjoy this while you can everyone, because something tells me this won't last forever." 

The unit looked at him, some mystified while others peered on in skepticism.

"Commander, with all due respect, Sigma's gone," called a tall lanky Hunter. X vaguely recalled his name being Trael. 

"His program was deleted by the anti-virus in the Third Uprising," Trael continued. "You should know; you were there."

X's expression further darkened. "Yes, I know all too well. But the threat does not stop with him. Sigma is not the be all, end all of the Mavericks." Linking his arms behind his back, he persisted. "No, that wasn't the end. It can't have been so easy." He was slowly slipping away and that became obvious to the assembled.

"Sir, perhaps we _are finished," another Hunter tried to amend. "The Maverick forces are disappearing and there are no traces of the "virus" causing the infection of reploids. There haven't been any since the end of the Third Uprising."_

Holding up a finger, X countered the observation. "Sigma reappeared after two years. _Two years! It has only been six months since his third appearance. Have any of you considered that?" X didn't pause but resumed his argument. "If not Sigma, there will be another threat we shall face. If not us, then the ones following our footsteps."_

Shaking his head, the commander finished. "This discussion has gone roundabout. Perhaps you're right. Perhaps there will be no more Mavericks. Now we are only relying on mere speculation. We can just sit this out, I suppose," he sighed thoughtfully. X forced a smile. "Now all of you get out of here and have some fun. You only live once." He reconsidered. "Or twice," he smirked faintly at a buried memory.

The Hunters of the 17th were a bit confused at their commander's sudden mood swings to say the least, but soon dismissed it. What could you expect of the one who had stopped complete genocide of the human race on three separate occasions? 

They gathered themselves and headed out, many of them planning on taking X's advice. Those injured would make their way, with some help, to the Med Center for the care from their ill-mannered physician Blaze.

"Odd," muttered Trael as he exited the automatic doors. "Definitely odd," he mused once again.

"What're you talkin' 'bout there, Tray?" One of his friends patted him on the shoulder.

"Nah. Nothing important," he waved the question off. "X was just acting strangely there, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. The guy's been through a lot these past few years though. He was every right to be suspicious of our dear Maverick friends." The other shrugged noncommittally.

"I suppose you're right. I'm going to head down to the Mess Hall for some breakfast. Wanna come?"

"Sure. Why not? Can't live off an empty stomach."

Trael grinned. "Yep. You only live once, you know. I heard that somewhere."

"Smart guy, huh? I'll show you some manners one day."

"Manners? You? Hah! Try again, buddy."

His friend only grumbled as they rounded the next corner.

**********

Upon touching down, Whiplash's right leg came out from under him. His shoulder slammed into the wall and he winced slightly from the jolt. As he pushed himself onto his feet with happy assistance from the wall, a voice sounded behind him, as cool and frosty as an ice cube.

"Yet another Hunter beat senseless. How nice. Can't you do anything to not get yourselves bloodied up?" it sneered. But whoever it was didn't stop there.

"And by a _simulation at that! Bravo. Really."_

Whiplash turned, his face a perfect mixture of anger and annoyance.

"Why the _hell did they hire you, Blaze? You've got the worst attitude, you know that? Way to make a patient feel welcome."_

Cool gray eyes locked onto his own greens. "I'm here to fix you up from your little accidents, not parent you."

Whiplash snorted disdainfully. "You should try to grant us some credit. I don't see you out there getting beaten up bloody by the Mavericks."

Ignoring the comment, she examined him with narrowed eyes. "Looks like you got struck in the side with a heavy duty spiked mace if there were such a thing."

Pursing his lips angrily, he gave her a menacing glare. "Two words. Second Uprising."

A faint flicker of recognition flashed across Blaze's face. 

"Ah. The X-Hunter Incident. Ingenious really," she contemplated quietly.

Whiplash's eyebrows creased. "Whose side are you on?"

Eyes flashing angrily, she shot back her response without missing a beat. "I'm here aren't I? I only speak the truth. That attack maneuver to keep you preoccupied was pure genius."

"So what?" spat Whiplash vehemently. Clearly the subject made his blood boil. "Can we just take care of this?" He pointed avidly at the chunk quite literally missing out of his side.

"Yes, fine," she agreed, albeit seemingly disappointed. She seemed like she had been enjoying the subject. That, or she just liked getting a rise out of Whiplash.

Her eyes lit up, however slightly, after a moment. "Well does it hurt?"

When Whiplash didn't reply immediately, she prodded him again. "Well?"

"Now that you mention it, not really," he conceded.

"Good," she nodded approvingly. "The second I saw you warp in, I flooded the room with a light painkiller. You probably feel a bit drowsy, correct?"

Rubbing his much abused shoulder unconsciously, he replied. "Yes, but I just thought it was from the blood loss." Blaze beckoned him to follow her with her hand. Limping slightly behind her, he resumed speaking.

"You may not be the most friendly soul, but you do get the job done, I'll grant you that."

Without bothering to turn her head, she "hmmphed" at the statement. "I suppose I should take that as a compliment." 

Pausing at a doorway, she waved him forward. "Come in."

"Nice place you got here," he said dryly, observing the sparkling spic-and-span walls.

"You won't be seeing it for a quite a while, I assure you," she retorted. She pointed at the bed in the center of the room. "Lay down."

Whiplash dutifully followed her instructions. Glancing up, he looked at her curiously.

"The others will be here soon," Whiplash reminded her, his voice sing-songlike.

Blaze shuffled through her instruments as she responded. "I have assistants. They'll take care of the rest. You did quite a number to your internals."

"Me?" Whiplash sputtered. "I didn't–"

Blaze waved him off. "Quiet. I will make the assumption you were the worst hurt. I don't see anyone else warping in directly, do you?" Without waiting for an answer, she went on. "You'll be out for a couple hours–"

It was Whiplash's turn to interrupt. "What time is it?" he demanded, not thinking to check himself.

"Oh-nine-twenty. Why do you ask?" Blaze inquired, more out of habit than anything. 

"I'm meeting Kat and Des for lunch at twelve-thirty."

Blaze didn't comment, instead pulling out a hypo.

"Well?" questioned Whiplash. "I'm not gonna be late, am I?"

Blaze lifter her brow quizzically, her expression not changing otherwise. "I don't know yet. We'll have to see just how deep the damage is that that thing caused. I'd worry more about my personal health more than making a lunch date, if I were you."

Whiplash opened his mouth to retort, but Blaze cut him off by shaking her head and injecting the hypo into his neck. His head fell limply backward onto the bed as his jaw went slack and eyes closed.

Rubbing her hands together almost gleefully, her normally neutral expression was bordering on slightly amused, and Blaze raised her chin slightly to the challenge posed.

"Time to get to work."


	5. Chapter Three: Demons of Hellfire

A few words, if you will, before you begin.  First of all, I apologize on the extensively long wait you all had to endure for me to complete this chapter.  But believe me, my work was not in vain.  I'm quite sure you'll all be very pleased with the result of my labors.  

Secondly, I used to think it almost undignified to ask for reviews.  But, I find that it would be much appreciated if you lent me a few seconds of your time to give me your thoughts on the latest installment.  So, you can tell me things I might like to improve upon, things I'm doing a good job on, etc.  I'll pretty much welcome near anything.  After all this, I'd have to guarantee you'll have something to say.  Now, back to TMTW…!  I promise you won't be disappointed.

**********

**The Mind Traps Within**

By: Kat

**Chapter 3: Demons of Hellfire**

X placidly leveled his gaze at the cool surface of the mirror.  His quarters were dimmed, only letting a marginal amount of natural light seep in through the slanted blinds.  The tranquil atmosphere did not match the Hunter's mood as one might expect, though.

Sleep was not a likely option; X had tried to no avail. He didn't care it was mid-morning; he wouldn't care if there were a full-fledged party complete with lights and blaring music in the next room.  He felt drained of all energy and spirit, though he couldn't explain it.  On the other hand…

X peered hardly at his double in the smooth surface.  Shadows played across his face as he saw his own eyes narrow contemptuously.  Slowly, he traced the contours of his face in the reflection.

Anything would do.  One change was all he needed.  One marking factor that would let others know of the things he had been through, the torture he had endured over these past few years.  Something to prove it hadn't been a dream, or rather, a nightmare.

Letting go a small sigh, he lightly traced a line down the side of his face with his finger.  Nothing.  The same lines, same shadows, same curves.  On the surface it was as if he hadn't aged a day.

X tilted his head downward and looked at his hands.  Perhaps a dream world would be preferable than this existence in which he lived.  It wasn't fair!  Why should he and so many others have to pay the price of their freedom to fight a seemingly never-ending battle?  One they did nothing to cause?

X shook his head in an attempt to clear the jumbled thoughts that were cascading through his head.  Looking back to the mirror, he was stunned to see the haggard expression he wore.  Slumping into his chair, the weariness seemed to wash over his face.  Lines etched themselves into the corners of his eyes and the under-eye shadows deepened.  The physical change was immediate, and the X everyone thought they knew no longer existed.  X frowned dolefully.  Few, if any, truly did know the Hunter anymore.

Staring at his now gaunt face, X nearly laughed.  He was getting good, oh too good at this.  He played his part almost too well.  Truly, it seemed he was just an actor in an all too realistic play.  Unfortunately, his performance was becoming less and less true to the role, and he knew his little façade was failing.  The reality within was threatening to break the surface and destroy the character he had so desperately strived to create.  He had pieced together the person he thought—he knew—he used to be and filled the gaps to create the ideal X, one who didn't raise any suspicion.  Just put together a plausible picture and no one had reason to believe anything else.  Why should they?  What would their precious little redeemer of morality X have to hide?

Today had been a perfect example of his crumbling public image.  He was swinging back-and-forth on an emotional teeter-totter and his control was slipping away with each rebound.  It must have appeared their commander was having a hell of a time deciding just what mood he was in.  Today, the trouble's source had struck him with no warning.

When he had seen Whiplash lying nearly helpless on the harsh surface of the blood smeared platform, it had triggered a massive upheaval of repressed memories.  The conglomeration of images and recollections burned like fire in his veins and threatened to overwhelm him.  Quickly he had jumped to rescue the struggling Hunter and attempted to ignore the memories that had been triggered. The success had helped the pain subside to a dulled but still painful throb.  That was why he had fled to his quarters after the simulation and the unit's little discussion, avoiding anyone in case he completely broke down.  _That was why he was sitting miserably watching the past few years finally take their rightful place._

X closed his eyes and dug the heel of his palm into his forehead.  They were back.  The memories he had struggled to keep buried had arisen once again.  The darkness edged closer, a veil of chaos that could not be contained.

X scrunched his face up in a grimace and dug his nails into his palms.  He didn't _want to remember.  Slowly, images formed on his eyelids while sensations forgotten brushed his body like jolting tendrils, bringing memoirs of a painful history he'd rather soon disregard.  The straining fights, the excruciating pain that flooded his body, the screams of wounded and those that hunted them down in bloodthirsty lust—the victims of the Mavericks.  But they weren't the only ones._

A flash like lightning flared on his closed lids.  The road.  _The highway.  Cars flew past with screaming, frenzied people running every which way.  __Blood was __everywhere.  Its putrid smell invaded his senses and made him gag. The liquid gleamed sickly on the devastated street and fires blazed in their untamed glory.  He jumped and dodged, a rookie Hunter, unversed in the ways of chaos and terror, soon to be given a rude awakening to the dreadful plight and circle of anarchy the world was destined to bear until its final doomsday._

Another flash.

His first mission as a Maverick Hunter against one of the eight Maverick generals.  Chill Penguin.  The once jolly ex-Hunter turned, now to fight on the opposing side, doomed for failure.  Still unsure, X edged his way through, unknowing of the surprise that would register when he came upon the first of one of Light's many wonders.  The freezing cold nipped at his bare face as he slowly progressed through the frozen domain, finally to meet his first bitter taste of the life he was to further endure for a time no one thought would _ever be needed.  The highway was a warm-up compared to this.  The hardships the world faced now were only a glimpse into the coming future.  _

Flash. 

…

X saw Zero's ravaged torso lying on the ground in his "last" pose, the image in itself almost too painful to look at.  Fluids leaked and severed circuits sparked from the torn half of the esteemed Hunter, who was probably under inconceivable pain.

"Not again," he wheezed.  Even approaching death, the proud Hunter would not cry.  Reaching a hand towards Zero, X almost touched the scarred armor that was warped from the explosion.  

"Zero…" He watched helplessly as the last breath left the red Hunter's body in a painful exhale.  The Hunter's spirit left fleetingly, only to return six months later.

X's arms shook while the images that were almost too clear kept coming.  "Why are you making me watch this?" he moaned feebly.

The leering visage of Maverick after Maverick flew past: Chill, Boomer, Overdrive, followed by even more, all deaths he had caused.  They circled, intermingling with nameless faces of those he had seen fall to him and his X-Buster.  He heard and saw screams of agony from multitudes upon multitudes, every yell, every breath taken by them causing him to recoil.

The images flickered in and out of existence in his mind's eye, replaced over and over with yet another, faster and faster.  Sigma in each of his different forms, the same sneering face with every rebirth.  The images overpowered X and he slid to the floor onto weakened knees, his body shaking violently.

"Stop-stop-stop," he murmured, his voice cracking more with each repetition.  He gripped his head between twitching and trembling hands.  More tableaus blazed into his consciousness as the pain grew to an unbearable point.  It seared through his veins and he felt as if it were going to eat through him from the inside out.  "Just STOP!"

Silence.

Pausing at first, X pulled himself onto the chair with trembling arms and warily opened his eyes.  Once again, he had returned to his room, back to the familiar.  In a huff, he let out the breath he had unknowingly been holding.

He sat unmoving in the blissful silence for seconds that stretched an eternity.  Slowly, the aquamarine-eyed Hunter took in a much-needed breath in a shaky gasp.  Thankfully, he shut his eyes and let his chin touch his chest in utter exhaustion.

X… 

X jerked his head up.  "Nononono—Now I'm hearing things?!" he exclaimed breathlessly.

_X… This is your memory.  **I am your memory, your past, your present, and soon to be the end of your future.**_

The Hunter raised his chin slowly, eyes widening in pure disbelief.

"What?" he hissed as his breath was sucked out of him.  Suddenly, he shot out of his chair in surprise as he heard an abrupt explosion.  X couldn't be sure if it was real or only in his head, but he almost wished the former.

The azure Hunter began hearing ragged, choking gasps, which enveloped him from all sides.  He spun around to try and find what was causing the haunting noise.  Empty space greeted him.

"What the…" X dropped off.  "What's going on?" he whispered, fear tingeing his voice.  

Closing his eyes, X groped backward blindly and latched onto the chair.  As he pulled himself gradually down onto the seat, the Hunter's body began to tremble vaguely.  With eyes still shut, X gripped his left arm above the elbow with a shuddering right, trying to stop the cursed shaking.

"This is like a d-damn Halloween m-movie," he said with faintly chattering teeth, attempting to fight the bitter cold that he felt but knew didn't exist.  The voice seemed to speak Death itself and it frightened X more and more with each passing moment.

Dreading whatever was next, X sat in shaky and troubled silence.  He didn't have to wait long.

A voice like crackling leaves dried by wind rattled in X's head.

"You shall…never win…never…have…" 

X sat straight in his chair to face the mirror, slowly opening his eyes in fear.

I recognize that voice… 

The voice cackled roughly and ended in a series of short stuttering coughs.

Oh my god… 

"No…" he begged.  His eyes focused on the mirror that no longer showed his image, but another's.  Another who was not supposed to be here and defied all logic.  It was improbable, impossible.  He met the stranger's gaze.  Glowing ruby, purely demonic eyes dug into the back of his skull from behind an unrevealing but menacing shield of fury.

"X… I will haunt you _until the day you DIE!" Vile screamed painstakingly.  The Hunter's body jerked agonizingly with every word._

The demon's body shook uncontrollably while open wounds still bled out, its remaining arm's hand clenching into a tight fist.  The seemingly reborn Vile began making a hissing noise like a threatened cat and spoke his final words.

"I…will _haunt you…X…"_

The impending explosions whine began building as Vile's fusion tank began a total overload.  He simply glared at X mercilessly, causing the Hunter to cringe as the blood-red oval slits dug themselves like daggers into his skull.

X squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed his head between his hands, his body bent over.  He clenched his teeth together painfully, listening to the scream quickly build.  Helplessly, he shook his head back and forth, as if his denial would stop the blinding white terror from coursing through his body.

"No, no, NO!" he shouted over the unbearable screech that was almost at its peak.  He stopped suddenly as he came to a conclusion in his troubled mind.  X's body began shaking again, now not from fear, but from rage.  Releasing his unforgiving grasp around his skull, he deliberately raised his head and stared down the seemingly undead Maverick, soon to be silenced for a second, or perhaps third time.  He would not let him win again.  X had won physically, yes, but mentally, emotionally?  No, the Maverick would not prevail.

Body tense, X slowly stood up from his chair, his hands clenched into fists.  X was no longer in control; rather, something of a primal nature, something each and every one of us holds inside that waits for the right moment to unleash its hell-born wrath.  With muscles tight, the Hunter raised his fist, pulled back, and let fly with unbridled fury, a pained scream of primal rage released from within his shuddering chest.

Cracks splintered out from where his fist made its mark, shattering the demon from beyond's already wrecked image.  Vile's torn figure disappeared rapidly, revealing the glittering shards of broken mirror, cutting X's startling image into jagged pieces.

X returned and gazed on in openmouthed shock, the past few seconds finally registering to his muddled mind.  Slowly, the Hunter pulled his fist back and stared at the torn knuckles, then to their receiving end.  His face drained slightly of color as his already weakened knees buckled.

X collapsed into his chair as he inwardly reviewed the scene that had transpired.  Disbelief reigned in his mind but he knew it to be the truth.  The tortured Hunter brought his knees up to his chest and stared blankly ahead over the tops of them, a bit of his slightly disheveled hair falling into his eyes.  Slowly, he brought his head down to rest.  He sat alone, silent, the rest of the world unawares to the violent and distressing inner struggle that had taken place in their acclaimed champion.

No tears.  No emotion.

Just silence.

**********

Kat gazed at the ceiling with an expressionless face while an anxiety-ridden Desiree tapped her fingers on the table.  Quiet chatter and clinking glasses filled the background of the busy café as waiters and waitresses flew hurriedly between tables taking orders.  Desiree looked at her watch, which even though she did not need it, wore it to decrease suspicion.  The latest Uprising did not bode well with many people, and Reploid prejudice now was higher than it had been for quite some time.

"Where is he?  It's 12:50!  He's never this late.  Something," she huffed, "must have happened during that training exercise.  I'm going to route a call through to HQ."  She began to rise, presumably to go to a private place and send a message on her wristcomm. 

Kat looked down from the ceiling in alarm, her previously blank face finally registering some awareness to the goings-on around her.  "No you're not!  He'll be here.  Besides, they would let us know if something bad happened.  It's only a training simulation."

"But what if he was knocked unconscious and he didn't tell them he was supposed to meet us!  I… You know what?  You're right.  I should just relax, shouldn't I?" sighed Desiree warily.  She took in a slow, deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves.

"Yes, you should," Kat agreed halfheartedly with a nod of her head but didn't bother to elaborate. 

Peering at Kat curiously, Desiree spread her palms on the table.  "Aren't you going to say anything else?"

"What?" muttered Kat with slightly glazed eyes.  Desiree poked Kat in the shoulder with her index finger, startling her out of her reverie.

"Are you alright?  You're not acting yourself," asked Desiree with a bit of concern in her voice. 

The Hunter shook her head.  "I don't know.  Maybe it's just that subcommander thing you mentioned earlier," shrugged Kat.  She leaned back further and shrunk in her seat.

"No," Desiree said slowly, "that's not it.  It doesn't seem that simple.  What's on your mind?"

"Okay."  Kat waved a hand.  "Perhaps you're right, but it does have to do with that whole line of thought.  I know there are others who have had more experience than me.  Why not them?"  Her voice had taken on a downcast tone.

Desiree peered at her in quiet dismay, mixed with another emotion Kat couldn't name.  "Kat, you shouldn't doubt your abilities.  Even if you haven't had that much experience, I _know you have the capability to become a great leader.  Plus," she added with a slight grin, "you have kick-ass fighting skills. Those Mavericks won't know what hit them.  Literally."_

"But—"

"Hi guys.  Sorry I'm late." Whiplash strode toward their table nonchalantly, wearing a pair of worn black jeans and a short-sleeved white shirt that, although fairly loose, managed to show off his muscular figure.  He slid in next to Kat and placed his arms on the table.  "What's up?"

Desiree frowned at him and swept him head to toe with a steely-eyed gaze.  "You're nearly half an hour late and you ask what's up?  Where were you?  You look exhausted."

Whiplash sighed wearily and put a hand behind his head.  "I just got a little injury during the training exercise, that's all."  He put out his arms and half-turned in his chair, first to the left, then the right.  "See?  All better."

"Little?!" exclaimed Desiree.  "Nothing _little would make you this late.  Don't tell me you were in the Med Center this long?!"_

Sitting back, he crossed his arms lazily over his torso.  "What if I was?  Really, it's no big deal."

Kat eyed both of the Hunters but didn't comment.  Inwardly, she was vaguely smiling, even through her melancholy feelings.  She had seen this routine performed again and again by the pair.  One was constantly scolding the other for something they'd seemingly messed up.  Kat had always gotten a kick out of watching the two try and one-up each other.  She'd known both Desiree and Whiplash since only a few days after she had signed up with the Hunters.  Back then, even they'd only known each other for about a week or two, but all of them had seemingly hit it off.  Now the trio had become nearly inseparable and the best of friends.  Kat had always thought herself lucky having found her own niche in the social structure so quickly, and friends with what she considered two of the best people you could find. 

Desiree peered at Whiplash in disbelief.  "That's it.  You had better tell me what happened right now!  I order you as a commanding officer.  Now, spill!" she ordered boldly.

"Fine," huffed Whiplash heatedly.  "X decided to do a reenactment of the X-Hunters first attack.  You know, at the supposedly abandoned reploid factory?"

Desiree tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, but didn't speak.  She waved at him to continue.

"Well," he went on, "remember that big-ass mechaniroid the X-Hunters decided to leave as a nice surprise?  The damn thing walloped me in the side with its mace-hand and I flew for a good distance.  So, I ended up with a big gash in my side and I spent a few hours in the Med Center with the ever-sociable Blaze.  End of story.  Happy?"

"Yes, I am," Desiree replied with a genuine note of relief in her voice.  "I _knew something happened during that simulation.  You sure you're fine?"_

"I'm sure," sighed Whiplash.  "Blaze fixed me up pretty well.  I'm just a little tired, that's all."

"Alright, alright."  Desiree leaned back and put her hands behind her head.  "I'm convinced.  You gonna order anything?"

"Nah, I'm not hungry.  You guys go ahead," Whiplash declined.

"We already ordered a few minutes ago, but thanks for the go-ahead," smiled Desiree slyly.

Whiplash grinned.  "Figures." He turned his head and looked at Kat questioningly.  "You're sure quiet.  What's up?"

"It's nothing," muttered Kat glumly.

"We were talking about the new subcommander position for the 15th.  The decision's announced tomorrow and I was saying earlier that it sounds as if she's a prime choice," offered Desiree.

"That's great!  So why the long face?" asked Whiplash worriedly.  

"I don't know.  I'm just not sure I'd be able to handle the responsibility," Kat shrugged.  Desiree looked at her oddly; the other Hunter was hiding something else.  

Kat continued after a second.  "It's a big job.  People's lives would be in my hands."

Whiplash reached a hand out across the table and grasped one of the crestfallen Hunter's own.  "Kat," he said slowly, "you'll be fine.  Whatever happens I know you'll be alright."

"Again, it might not even be you," said Desiree.  "But don't shy away from it if it is just because you're scared."  She paused for a moment and twisted her face up in a slight grimace, as if recalling an unpleasant experience.    

"Anyway, I may be a commander, but let's face it," sighed Desiree, "the 7th Unit isn't exactly top of the line.  The 15th is.  Your abilities probably already surpass mine.  Either way, you're good to go."

Kat nodded slowly and looked at the two with a bit of relief filling her eyes.  "Thank you, both.  Believe it or not, that really helps…"

"No problem.  But really, we're starting to sound kind of clichéd if you know what I mean," chuckled Whiplash jovially.  Kat let out a nervous laugh.

"You're right.  I'm getting hungry.  I hope they're done soon," she said with newfound spirit.

Moments later, a waitress walked over, balancing two trays in her hands.  "You guys ready?" she asked the trio of Hunters.

"Speak of the devil," laughed Desiree.  "Yeah, we're ready.  Are you sure you don't want anything?" she asked Whiplash again.

"I'm sure.  Go ahead, guys.  Dig in," he encouraged. 

"Don't mind if I do," chuckled Desiree.  The trio halted their conversation as the two females dove into their entrees.  

"Hungry, aren't we?" smirked Whiplash.  Desiree and Kat grinned at him but continued eating.  They sat silent in the relaxed chatter of the little café, not needing to speak to feel at ease in each other's presence.

**********

People gathered in throngs in the observation center that was adjoined to the Rec Room.  The chit chattering of voices grew to such an unbearable volume that you had to scream for a person two feet away to hear you.  A thin transparent shield, which looked like ordinary glass, stretched an entire wall and reached from the ceiling to the floor.  It allowed an unobstructed view of the Rec Room, and if necessary, had the unique attribute allowing it to be used as a view screen.

The almost infamous Crimson Hunter strode into the Rec Room at five minutes until 1600, military time.  No one except the two opponents would be allowed inside because the holo-emitters would build them into the environment as well.

Immediately upon entering, he caught sight of the growing masses awaiting his and Flare's little bout.  Narrowing his eyes, Zero almost snorted.  None of them had anything better to do than watch two ferocious Hunters mercilessly try and slice each other up?

Actually, it didn't sound bad to him.  Hell, during the American Civil War, civilians would sit around and have friggin' picnics, having a dandy old time, while their sons got their heads lopped off with swords and had bullets driven into their skulls.  Now THAT was sick.

"Well, well, well.  What do we have here?"

Zero turned lazily, recognizing the ever-sneering tone.  As expected, Flare stood with arms crossed, his weight on his right leg while he eyed the crowds warily.

"Don't they have anything better to do?" he remarked sarcastically with a vague wave of his white-gloved hand.  

Zero grinned lopsidedly.  "I was wondering the same thing."  When it came to mindset, the two Hunters weren't very different.

The commander of the 15th half smiled, which was about as close as he normally got.  "What say we get this show moving?"

"Yeah, the greatest show on Earth, eh?" drawled Zero.  "Remember, I'm not going to go easy on your pretty Hunter behind."

Flare looked at him with a level gaze, with eyes surprisingly removed of emotion.  "I wasn't planning on it, either."

Inwardly stunned at the bluntness expressed, Zero raised his eyebrows in mock contemplation.  "Cocky for someone who hasn't had practically any real battle experience."

"I've had enough, whatever your definition of _real is," Flare responded, his clipped tone not inviting any more banter between the two.  _

_Fine, thought Zero hotly.  __Two can play at this game._

"Alright then.  Before we have our little duel of the ages, I propose we add a little spice to the mix."  Zero paused hesitantly for show.

"I'm listening," prodded Flare exasperatedly. 

Zero threw out his first sentence conspiratorially with a wave of his arm and a flick of his wrist.  "How about we have two Maverick Generals pay us a visit? _Then we can see who will prevail… Provided both of us make it out of the initial battle," he finished with half-lidded eyes, grinning like a Cheshire cat._

"Don't worry.  I'll be there when you finish," Flare shot arrogantly.

The Crimson Hunter narrowed his eyes as he smoothly pulled the hilt of his saber out of its recharge pack.  He'd had enough.  Expertly, he twirled the handle with a roll of his wrist and flicked the beam on.

"We'll see about that," he muttered darkly.  "Computer, bring up program Zero-1-12 and standby."  He grinned slyly.  "No safeties."

_"Are you sure you wish to disengage safety protocols?" the computer chirped._

"Of course," answered Zero with a graceful wave of his saber.

Flare turned his head and glanced sideways at Zero.  "Isn't that a bit dangerous?"

"Scared?" chuckled Zero.  Besides his enjoyment of the Hunter's reaction, his face betrayed a glint of malice that Flare had no trouble recognizing himself.

"No way," Flare snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously.  In a blur, he yanked out his own saber and lit it.  His eyes became two sunken obsidian disks as he held it near his face, the shadows not only created by the saber's mere presence; the saber itself was black.  Its peculiar color always caught Zero off guard no matter how many times he might have seen it.

"Tell me, where'd you get that saber?  I'm not sure I've ever seen that model anywhere else," he asked quizzically, not waiting any longer.

The other Hunter pulled the saber down from near his face and noticeably tightened his grip.  Flare's eyes darkened a shade and he waited several moments in answering.  "I don't know.  I've had it ever since I was activated.  Why?"  Zero noticed Flare had become a bit edgy just from the tone in his voice, and his saber occupied arm twitched ever so slightly.  It wouldn't have been noticed by anyone without a trained eye.

"Just interested, that's all," Zero shrugged visibly, covering his surprise from the other's reply and reaction.  It was extremely odd for a reploid to possess a weapon upon activation anymore.  Normally they were outfitted later, unless they were made for a specific militaristic purpose.  Even then, that usually meant they were made from a single model, almost as drones, and Flare was certainly unique.  And why was he so tense?

Filing away the information for future reference, he steadied himself and balanced his weight, his saber held diagonally across his body.

"Activate program," he said simply.

Walls slowly began to disappear as the landscape completely changed.  The crowds inside the observation center finally quieted down and watched the transformation in awe.

Flare felt himself sink as his feet shifted slightly under him.  Peering downward, he saw the sand creep up a bit around his boots.

"Wait—sand?"

The scarlet-hued Hunter merely stared, his eyes never wavering from the black and silver armored figure standing across from him.

"Where the hell are we?" Flare growled.  His eyes scanned the bleak landscape, which was dotted with a couple of small industrial structures, one only a short distance away.  He presumed they were some kind of storage facilities.

Zero let himself crack a slight smile.  "You'll find out soon enough, believe me.  Myself?" he chuckled.  "I never had the chance to come here in person."

Flare growled deeply, not at all liking Zero's cryptic response.  After several seconds of silence, he felt a soft swoosh of air blow at the back of his head.  The Hunter felt his hair involuntarily stand on end, much to his dismay.

"They're here," stated Zero with cold inflection.  Flare didn't need to be told; their presence was easily felt.

A large shadow passed over his body, clearly not humanoid in form.  He slowly took in a breath and brought his saber close to his body.  Feeling his senses heighten at the looming threat, his muscles tensed, ready at the slightest thought to fly into action.

Slowly, he turned to face the presumed dual threat.  His eyes widened a bit, only seeing one Maverick.

"Damn," he muttered.  Up, up went his eyes to finally discover the aerial force that had cast its shadow upon him.

"Double damn," he breathed again.

Both sets of the Mavericks' eyes were currently ignoring his presence and were rather fixed upon the figure behind him.  The fragile silence stretched until the grounded Maverick finally spoke.

"Zero," it hissed.  "But you're…"

"Dead.  Yeah, I know.  At least according to your time," Zero conceded, obviously already expecting their reaction.

The Maverick General grunted but said nothing else.  It was clearly still confused.  Flare knew he had seen these two before, but couldn't place them.  But if Zero were dead when they were around…

"Where's X?  And who's this?"  The general spoke again and pointed a clawed appendage at Flare.

It was time for him to make his entrance.  Flare took a short step forward.  "X won't be joining us.  And you don't need to know my name."

"Sure they do.  Guys, meet Flare, commander of the 15th," Zero said candidly.

Flare whipped his head around and shot the other a look of intense irritation.  Zero merely smiled at him, his eyes twinkling with dangerous intent.

"Now that you know our names, how 'bout you introduce yourselves for the sake of my friend here?" the grinning Hunter asked calmly.  Flare rolled his eyes and slid his saber back into its slot; he always had his Buster.  What game was Zero playing?

The Maverick drew himself to his full height, which gave him about a foot of clearance over Flare's head.

"I," he proudly proclaimed, "am Overdrive Ostrich." He waved an outstretched arm at the airborne Maverick who so far had been silent.

"This is—"

"Morph Moth," the other spat, finishing for his comrade.  Its large wings flapped slowly in the air, glittering in the desert sun.

It shot an angry look at its comrade.  "Learn to keep you mouth shut some day and stop this senseless chatter.  We should be at each other's throats by now."  It paused and turned its head toward the Hunters.  "I have one question, though."

Zero tilted his head impatiently.  Quickly, it continued as to not incur the Hunter's wrath.  "Why, or _how, I should ask, am I here?"  It waved an outstretched hand at the dreary scenery of Overdrive's base._

"Easy," smiled Zero smugly.  He took no notice of the "how" and rather answered the "why" instead.  "To try and even the odds."  He pointed two fingers, one at each of the Mavericks.  "You're merely here for a warm-up."

"What?!" screeched Morph.  "I am a Maverick General!  I will not be used as some toy.  We are here to make sure humans never again rule us on this miserable planet!  And you, oh _great one, shall learn of your mistake!  The Mavericks are strong and shall obliterate those unworthy, as you'll soon find out!"_

Zero blatantly ignored the Maverick's ranting and instead directed his conversation at Flare.  "Who do you want?"

"Huh?" Flare asked, confused at the sudden change, and turned sideways to peer at the Hunter but still keep an eye on the Mavericks.

"Whatever.  I'll go with Overdrive then."  Zero pointed is saber at the Maverick, who glared at him in clear contempt.

"Gladly," Overdrive responded and bent his legs readily.  The edged knee armor protruded at a dangerous angle, certain to impale anyone who got in his way.

Morph Moth cackled quietly, examining Flare.  "You?  You're no match for one such as I.  Prepare to be retired!"

Flare looked at Morph disgustedly.  Were they all this self-righteous?  If so, they really needed a reality check.

"Not today, you damned butterfly," he shot at the aerial Maverick.

A strangled cry rose in the moth's throat.  "Cocky Hunter!  I may not seem threatening, but you _ain't-seen-nothin'-yet!" it screamed savagely.  Instantaneously, the Maverick dove with mind-boggling speed toward the Hunter's head.  _

Relying on reflex alone, Flare jumped in a spin with help from his dash thrusters away from the frenzied reploid.  One of the Maverick's thick Titanium-X plated wings still managed to come into contact with Flare's shoulder armor and metal grated on metal in a piercing shriek.  It knocked him out of his rotation midair and he stumbled upon return to the ground.  Transferring the momentum into a roll, the Hunter was able to smoothly come out of it and stand up, suffering no injury.   

Morph rose up from near the ground and laughed, its whole body shaking.  "See?  You can't even stop me from scratching your armor!  This is child's play!"

Instead of granting the Maverick a response, Flare pulled his still lit saber back out in one fluid motion.

Morph Moth crossed its arms, its wings still working to keep the Maverick airborne.  "Did I hurt the Hunter's feelings?  Aw, boo-hoo."

Flare snorted.  "Shut up and fight already.  I'm not here to fool around."

"Ah, he does bite!" exclaimed Morph.  It spread its arms wide.  "Playtime's over, Hunter.  Get ready."

"Yeah, yeah," murmured Flare.  The Maverick's eyes narrowed promptly.  All joking was pushed aside in that one, solitary movement.  

Morph dove yet again, the same as before.  Flare immediately jumped backward to avoid collision, but realized that was exactly what the Maverick had wanted.  

Before turning into the true meaning of scrap metal from slamming headfirst into the ground, Morph Moth pulled up and came straight at the Flare, speeding a mere two feet above the ground.  Flare had barely had time to drop to the ground flat on his stomach when he felt the huge gust of air blow over him.  If he'd been any slower, he would have had the reploid hit him in the midsection at a good 60 or plus kilometers per hour.

The Maverick halted a few meters past Flare's body and swung around 180 degrees.  It tilted its head.  "Figures."

Flare jumped to his feet.  "_What!?" he practically screamed, his very little patience easily running out._

Now it seemed as if Morph were the calm one.  "That little maneuver I pulled would have severely debilitated me too.  I tried it out to test you.  You _are a commander, so if you couldn't dodge that, the Hunters are hiring poor help these days," it snickered._

The Hunter shook his head violently.  Suddenly, he dash jumped straight at Morph without warning, his deathly black saber held out in front of his body.  Morph Moth veered left but was too slow in contrast to the result of its little trick on Flare, probably from surprise at the spontaneous movement.  Flare's saber dug into its left arm as it tried to move out of the way, cutting a deep diagonal slash into the Maverick's limb.

Morph Moth screeched out in pain and grasped the bleeding arm tightly with its opposing hand.  Flare's mouth curved up ever so slightly into a malevolent smile.

"Do you ever shut up?" he said, quiet yet threatening, his tone demanding you to hold onto his every word.  His face was turned from annoyance and mild disgust to an extremely self-satisfied demeanor and pure, undisguised hatred, completely beyond _anything he normally exhibited._

Morph Moth's eyes widened slightly and he peered at the deadly saber and its owner in alarm.  Blood slowly trickled over its gauntleted hand but Morph took no notice.  "You're different than the rest of them, aren't you?" it said uneasily.  "No one else would…" The Maverick was unable to finish the sentence.

"You're right," Flare said.  He spun his saber in an intricate pattern and proceeded to jam it into the sand like swords of old. With head tilted downward, he peered at the Maverick.  "I'm the one who will make you feel excruciating pain beyond your imagining.  And I'm not going to lose."

At the Hunter's last declaration, a flicker of rage and a bit of defiance flared up in the Maverick's eyes.  "Cocky," it muttered.  "Cocky, cocky, cocky Hunter.  For all your talk, I don't think you have the guts to kill me."  Flare was too enraged and intense in his craze to notice Morph was merely pushing his buttons.  Behind his guise of superiority, the Maverick was withholding fear and trepidation that could easily be read by simply looking into its eyes.

No matter.  Flare took the words at face value.

"Come and get me," he challenged viciously, his words taking on a distinctive bite.

Morph yowled and shot straight up in the air, settling at about 40 feet.  "I've got a surprise for you, Hunter!" it screamed.  The Maverick began swooping back and forth over Flare.  Flare sheathed his saber and instead trained his Buster onto Morph, which he proceeded to use to fire a level two greenish ball of plasma.  It streaked toward the Maverick and caught it dead center in the stomach.  Morph coughed lightly but continued its odd aerial pattern.

"What the hell are you doing?" screamed Flare.  "This ain't the Nutcracker!"

Then the Hunter noticed the glittering clouds falling steadily to Earth, emanating from the giant moth.

"Great," the crazed Hunter muttered.  "You trying to sprinkle frickin' fairy dust on me?  That's just great!" he yelled up to the Maverick.  

With a cry, he brought up his Buster and fired a fully charged plasma burst that crackled and spit tremendous plasmic energy.  His accuracy once again was perfect and the blast enveloped Morph Moth in white fire, followed closely by a large concussive blast.  The light died away to reveal the Maverick slightly scarred but still fully operational.  Morph, of all things, giggled.

"Ah, ah, ah, Hunter!  Don't mock what you do not understand!"  Simultaneously, it pointed a finger at Flare, and then continued to open its entire hand and make a sweeping gesture at the glittering dust that was just about to come into contact with him.  

"Eh?" Flare looked up as the clouds descended.  All of the sudden his whole body felt as if it were on fire as tiny jolts of electricity stung at him from all around.  He groaned agonizingly under the torture, his body twitching and convulsing under the hundreds upon thousands of pinpricks.  He brushed at the dust with a heavy arm, attempting to no avail to clear the dust away.  Flare activated his dash systems and shot through and out of the golden cloud.  Once outside, he collapsed to his hands and knees and gasped heavily while his body still trembled, though unsubjected to the fiery powder-like substance.

"Like it?" cackled Morph Moth.  "Nanobots.  As you know, we carry them in our bloodstream.  I happen to produce a special type, breed if you will, that are separated and stored.  Once released, they're specially designed to produce electrical discharges at will.  Handy, no?"

Flare swore under his breath and pushed himself slowly to his feet.  "Nice trick.  But I have a few of my own to deal."  He turned and eyed the small dome-shaped building that was a short distance away as a plan slowly formed in his mind.

"Catch me if you can," Flare called over his shoulder.  He mentally disengaged the safety protocols on his dash boots and suddenly shot straight toward the structure's open entrance, the wind whipping through his exposed blonde hair.  Morph audibly cursed and followed the Hunter, one to victory, the other to the always bitter agony of defeat.

**********

Zero leaped out of the way to avoid an incoming Sonic Slicer, care of Overdrive.  He hadn't remembered that the Maverick formed the darn things from inside his mouth, or more specifically, somewhere in the throat region.  Interesting.

Overdrive sped toward him, his pointed knee armor gleaming in the desert sun.  Zero managed a jump over the ostrich's head with a little push from his dash thrusters and landed gracefully behind the Maverick.  His saber moved effortlessly through the dry air as he whipped around and brought it up to where he projected it should come into contact with the Maverick's arm.  Instead he found Overdrive glaring at him in the face, who brought up his likewise edged elbow armor to block the blade.  The saber ate through the armor and the protrusion fell deftly to the ground in between the two opponents.

Overdrive made a sound somewhere between a squawk and a growl deep in his throat.  Zero, not missing the opening, slashed with his saber at the Maverick's midsection, where it should have separated it into two even sections.  Overdrive saw the saber coming before it contacted and bounded backwards, the strength in his legs a definite advantage in this fight's swift and breakneck pace.  He hopped into the air and shot a Sonic Slicer once again at Zero who sidestepped it seemingly without moving.

The Hunter dashed straight at Overdrive with his saber held horizontally in front of him.  Overdrive easily jumped over the Hunter to avoid collision, but that's exactly what Zero had expected.  The Hunter abruptly stopped and back flipped into the air with his saber held close to his body, thus becoming a spinning mortal weapon.  Whirling through the air and landing catlike, Zero knew he hadn't managed to connect with the Maverick. Whipping around, he came face to face with a spinning crescent of metal.  It was too late; he couldn't do anything to stop it.

The slicer drove itself into his unarmored torso and he bit back a scream of agony.  His chest heaved while he tried to take in a breath, fighting the haze that temporarily clouded his vision.  He quickly brought his hand up to grasp onto the thin yet deadly curve of metal.  With no pause, he tore the bloodied weapon out of his body, bringing another wave of excruciating pain.  The nanobots in his blood stream would hopefully seal off the wound quickly; there was no way he could fight with the slicer sticking out of his body.

Zero whipped down the blade into the sand, one end still covered in his own blood.  Overdrive Ostrich squawked in triumph, clearly proud of his achievement.  The Hunter shook his head slightly.

"The battle's far from over, bird," he said.  

Overdrive tilted his head.  "We'll see about that, Zero."

 It was still painful to move for the Hunter, but manageable.  A strong-willed Zero dashed toward Overdrive once again, this time with his saber held back next to his body.  The Maverick opened his mouth and fired a Sonic Slicer straight at the Hunter, but Zero whipped his saber up and sliced the blade right in half.  Overdrive appeared slightly surprised and hastily ran to the left.  Zero altered his course and followed the Maverick.  Seeing the futility of his plan, Overdrive stopped and leaped straight up into the air.  The Hunter passed right under, not expecting the sudden change of plans.

Overdrive opened his mouth.  Out came a spread of Sonic Slicers that flew across the sky, hovered for a moment, and streaked toward the ground like lightning.  Zero just happened to be in the path of an incoming blade, but managed to hop out of the way in time.  The Maverick had meanwhile sprinted away from the Hunter while he was distracted and managed to open a fairly good distance between the two.

Both Hunter and Maverick glared at each other across the golden sands, neither moving for several moments.  Electricity almost visibly sparked between their gazes.  And then Zero moved.

Not dashing but running, the Hunter streaked toward Overdrive, saber out and held with an iron grip.  Overdrive fired a Sonic Slicer, then another, followed by yet another, right into the path of the Hunter.  None of them touched.

When Zero was nearly upon him, the Maverick jumped backward with a bound from his powerful legs.  

He paused.  

The thing that confused Overdrive was this; Zero was smiling.  The grinning demon Hunter sprung high into the air and pointed his blade downward at Overdrive.  

The Maverick realized his mistake.  

The tables had turned.  Now, it was the Maverick who was helpless to defend himself.

Zero's saber tore savagely into his gut and sliced all the way through his entire body.  After several seconds of torture, the Hunter yanked his blade out of the Maverick's body with a deadened expression spread across his face.  A shocked Overdrive fell backward soundlessly and hit the ground, the sands cushioning his impact.  His eyes widened.  Something had pierced his body from underneath, shoving itself right into his fusion tank.

Zero grinned cruelly.  Zero grinned, for it was the blade.  The same blade that the Maverick had used to impale the Hunter.  The same blade still covered with his blood.  The Hunter dash jumped backward with the same ruthless smile plastered on his face, his eyes mocking, laughing at the sight of the ill-fated Maverick.

Overdrive merely stared at the sky with glazed eyes for his final moments of life.  Suddenly, an explosion engulfed his entire body in fire.  Zero had to cover his eyes with an arm to shield his eyes from the flood of light and flying machinery.  All that remained after the smoke cleared was small pieces of indefinable shrapnel.

Zero walked with a slow, purposeful stride toward the wreckage and deftly picked up a small curve of glinting metal out of the sand.  It was the Sonic Slicer.  He traced the curves with his fingers and felt the metal cut into his skin through his gauntlet gloves.  Looking at the blood seep up to cover his fingers, he tossed the blade back into the fiery debris and turned slowly.  With a slight smile, he looked toward where Flare and Morph had been.  There was no sign of them, but Zero was sure one of them would appear soon enough.  Eyeing the structure near their last position, his grin widened and he smeared the blood onto a section of his unarmored leg.  

Yes.  He would wait.

**********

Commander Flare, 15th Unit, Maverick Hunters, was having the time of his life.  He smirked as he heard Morph curse as he entered the small building.  The Hunter was currently hiding behind a large metallic crate, and was well concealed from the Maverick's gaze.  He'd already built a charge up in his Buster and was itching for the opportunity to throw it right in Morph's face.

Looking around, the Hunter realized his conjecture had been correct.  He was slowly remembering bits and pieces of what he had read on the Second Uprising Maverick encounters.  Overdrive Ostrich's base had housed a large nuclear missile, which X had disposed of on his mission several years previous.  And if it were a missile silo, it surely would have some nice toys to play with, wouldn't it?  But, he wanted to have some of his own fun first.

An explosion sounded to his right, startling the Hunter.  He didn't recall that Morph Moth had a Buster of any kind, so what in the world was he using?  He shook his head.  He'd waited long enough.  

Flare jumped onto the crate he had been hiding behind and raised his Buster.  Maverick and Hunter spotted each other at the same time, but Flare was quicker to weapon.  The giant plasma ball slammed into Morph and knocked the Maverick backward a few feet in the air.  Amazingly, Morph didn't seem very fazed beyond that.

"Hunter, didn't you realize that it would take you more than your little Buster to knock me out of the sky?"  Morph sighed.  Quickly the Maverick brought its hands together out in front of its body.

Flare squinted at Morph, wondering what in the world it could possibly do to inflect any harm on him.  Then another piece of information clicked.

The Hunter threw himself into the air just as a concentrated laser flew slammed into the spot where he had been standing moments earlier.  It tore through the crate, sending pieces of jagged metal flew in every direction.

Once again, the Hunter switched his artillery, now back to his obsidian saber.  Just as he was jumping onto another crate, a second laser struck the ground, just barely missing the Hunter.  Flare quickly hopped from one crate or construct to the next, and was closing on the Maverick's position.  Laser-beams followed him at every turn, and he couldn't pause at one place for more than a second.  He swung his saber in front of his body and suddenly leaped straight at Morph, his blade a black dagger that matched his cruel intentions.

Morph moved out of the way of the Hunter's path in a split second, the saber barely missing his immense frame.  Flare landed on another metallic crate that had been directly behind the Maverick and not wasting a moment, bounded once again at Morph.  Flare discreetly formed his Buster in his open hand.  The Maverick dodged again, and Flare landed again on another construct.  Whipping around, the Hunter brought up his newly formed Buster and laughed out loud, a disturbing, wicked explosion, and a clear expression of his sinister strategy revealed.

"Say cheese!" he snarled slyly.

Another fully charged plasma burst left his Buster and impacted with full force upon the Maverick's body.  Both he and Morph knew that the blast wouldn't do much by itself.

The plasma?  Only a distraction.

With saber extended, Flare jumped at the aerial Maverick, his form a blur of movement.  Slicing downward, the Hunter connected.  Success.

He landed gently on the floor of the building and continued on to dash toward the entrance.  Flare turned around to face the interior of the structure with an expression of pure yet sickening contentment. He was in time to see the Morph Moth strike the floor with a nauseating crunch.  One solitary bleeding and sparking wing lay strewn, separated from the Maverick's crumpled frame.  Morph struggled to rise, but slumped back to the cold concrete floor, defeated.  

Flare grinned and raised his Buster, pointing it at a container aptly named "flammable." 

"Bye bye," he murmured.  The Hunter fired.

A huge, deafening explosion blew inside the building, triggering another.  And another.  Flare dashed away as the reactions grew even more deadly.  And then, one giant detonation of crimson flame and shrapnel burst from the building, completely devastating the assembly.

Flare snickered and watched as the flames ate up the building's remains, the burning smell of plastics and metal oddly satisfying.  A few small explosions ensued, but nothing extremely troubling.  Flare smirked nastily, his plan carried out with all bells and whistles attached.  He morphed his Buster back into his hand, its purpose completed.

The Hunter turned around unhurriedly, already having an idea of who would be waiting.  A distance away stood Zero, his blonde ponytail whipping in the wind.  They acknowledged each other with a nod, each sporting an ominous expression on his face.  Zero grinned with dark, narrowed eyes, his demented smile reassuring Flare that the Hunter would be ready to continue.  Flare wore no less of an unsettling look upon his face.  

Neither was afraid.  Neither was frightened by the manic craze that had taken control.  They were too similar in certain aspects, too utterly alike.  This similarity of each persona was and had always been destined to clash.  Over and over, great powers had been at odds with each other in history, both causing horrible devastation to the other every time.  This was their first test of power, of supremacy.  Who would prevail?  

They were ready.  The Hunters stalked toward each other with a deliberate step, each knowing that this would have a very interesting outcome indeed.

**********

Commander Desiree narrowed her eyes in complete disbelief at the spectacle taking place in front of her eyes.  The complete madness of this whole affair baffled her mind.  She could not believe the pure ruthlessness that had been shown, the _satisfaction in Zero and Flare's faces that betrayed the cruelty hidden beneath.  _

Zero had _never been like this before.  Sure, he had gotten caught up in battle, and his missions were taken out with precision and care in mind.  But this sickening fulfillment he displayed was amazingly off-key.  She couldn't believe this was the same Hunter she had seen in action for the past half year.  Something odd was definitely going on._

And _Flare.  Well, she knew he could act a bit rebellious and the like, and had one nasty attitude at times, but once again, this wasn't the same person.  It was almost impossible._

Perhaps it was their close proximity.  Maybe the pure fighting spirit radiating from each Hunter was instilling this hostile face-off of might against might.  She couldn't be sure.  But one thing she knew was this; everyone watching was seeing a new side of two of the most remarkable Hunters in the service.  Only X seemed any match for them at this time, at this degree of aggression.  Perhaps not even him though, for he normally would not fight to the extent of his abilities unless he, for lack of a better term, completely snapped.  Rarely was he to blow up at this level when unprovoked.  

And now, the Hunters were walking toward each other, perhaps even ready to deal deathblows.  Out of the corner of her eye, Desiree saw X standing in one of the far corners in shadow.  But his expression no doubt mirrored hers.  Right?

Actually…

X breathed a sigh and leaned back in his corner.  He didn't feel like being around anyone in particular.  Memory of earlier that day still remained crystal clear in his mind.  And this entire thing going on with Zero and Flare was _not_ helping.  And as much as X knew something was bothering him, to say the least, he couldn't disregard the fact that something odd was going on with his colleague.  Although X emanated a cool demeanor, he was watching every move made by Flare and Zero with a meticulous eye.  

This was wrong.  Everything about this whole competition seemed wrong.  He saw it in their eyes, their actions, their personas.  

X was worried.  Very worried.  And sooner or later, something would have to be done.

**********

Flaming embers burned within Zero's contrasting pale aqua eyes, beckoning Flare to make his move.  Flare returned the Crimson Hunter's gaze with his own electricity charged chocolate-brown orbs.

Fire upon fire.  Shadow to shadow.  Veteran versus soldier.

The beginner of an era against the spawn of an unforeseeable future.  Both born of two minds, yet a planned fate for each, utterly disregarded.

This was more than it seemed to be.  It had been written.  Destiny.  Circumstance, the only difference.

Zero raised his legendary saber, Sigma's dying "gift" from the First Maverick Uprising to the victor, X.  Flare followed suit, while his shadow saber's origin remained a mystery, even to its owner.

A low growl of a laugh sounded from deep in Zero's throat.  Flare grinned devilishly in response, while his smoky eyes flickered in approval.

And as in the flip of a switch, it began.  Zero's saber sliced downward at Flare's unarmored shoulder, right in between the joint connecting the ball and socket and the main body armor.  The other Hunter brought up his own to deflect the attack, took a quick minuscule step to the left, pulled his saber back from Zero's, and swung it in a swift uppercut.  

Within less than a second, the Hunter in red jumped backward and turned his saber horizontally to block the move.  The sabers slammed into each other, conjuring the crackling sound of destructive energy.  Both Hunters put all their might behind their blades, each trying to overpower the other.  The angry sparks of plasma endured for several stretched seconds as Zero and Flare held their grip, neither willing to be the first to end the struggle.

Finally, the commander of the 15th tilted his head and moved his saber back with a roll from his wrist.  The beam saber continued on in its counterclockwise motion though, as Flare knowingly flipped it back up and raised his arm, holding the blade high above his head.  Grasping the hilt with both hands, the Hunter let out a small cry as he hopped into the air and brought the blade down in full force at Zero's helmeted head.

Zero twirled 'round and stepped away, his ponytail following him in the breeze.  He swung his saber up to meet Flare's, where it stopped his opponent's from completing its downward slash.

Flare grunted and put his full weight behind the saber, while Zero in turn anchored his feet in the sand and pushed upward with all his strength.  Suddenly, the greenish blade gave way to its obsidian oppressor.  Flare was startled, and all the power he put behind his saber was released from its bind.  He stumbled, for he was unable to stop his forward momentum.

The Crimson Hunter delivered a jarring kick to the back of Flare's knees, causing the relatively new commander to tumble to the ground.  Chuckling, Zero brought his saber down near the back of Flare's neck, so close that it seared the synthflesh underneath the thin covering that protected it. 

The pinned Hunter's eyes edged to the right, not daring to move another muscle under Zero's intense scrutiny and close proximity of his beam saber.  All of a sudden, Flare dropped onto his stomach and rolled, elevating one leg slightly above the ground.  One of his booted feet caught Zero's leg and forced him to stumble.  He yowled in fury as one of his legs partially came out from under him.

Free from imprisonment, Flare grinned, jumped to his feet, and spun around with his saber out and held at waist level.  The Hunter was so sure of himself he did not consider what his rash action might bring as a consequence.

He soon found that Zero had already regained his balance.  Gripping his blade with two hands like a baseball bat, Zero pulled back and swung with all his might.  The blades connected.

The bone-crushing impact sent the raven saber flying far from the reach of its owner.  Flare watched helplessly as the blade flew through the dreary skies and landed on the tan sands, where it shone like an ebony beacon in a world of ethereal light. 

Gathering his wits, he morphed his hand into the Buster, his last line of defense.  But it was too late.

SA Class Hunter Zero rammed into his shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground.  Dropping to his knees, he pinned Flare's Buster to the ground, and no matter how hard Flare tried, he could not raise it up enough to take aim.

Zero pressed his saber against the other Hunter's neck yet again.  A single twitch would have been enough to slice into Flare's skin and send him to an early grave.

Flare slowly brought his gaze up to look into Zero's turquoise eyes.  He blinked in surprise.  Looking deep, as far as you could delve into the spirit, the essence of another, he saw what could only be described as pure lunacy held behind a thin, cracking wall of glass that was prepared to break at a moment's notice.  But, the ability to look into the soul at that instant was not restricted only to Flare.

Zero gazed down and saw what he did not wish to see.  Pulling himself back from the depths of Flare's being, he looked into the reflection of Flare's filmy, defiant stare, and saw…_himself.  _

Their connection was interrupted as the thuds of incoming footfalls steadily approached.  Zero looked up and blinked.  His distant, misty, maniacal eyes cleared immediately back to tranquil pools of water, completely conscious and self-aware.  His mouth fell slightly open when he realized who greeted him.

X stood a few meters away with his Buster steadily trained on Zero.  His clenched jaw muscles twitched, while his expression betrayed a quiet grief.

With a firm voice, X spoke.  "Zero, back off.  Slowly."  He jerked his Buster up slightly, motioning for Zero to comply.

Zero looked behind X to see a few Hunters standing readily at the still open entrance to the Rec Room.  They looked on in mild astonishment at the three great Hunters who were dealing with this odd predicament.  Glancing down, Zero saw Flare openly glaring up at him, though the Hunter's demeanor had reverted back to his normal touchy self.  Zero realized his saber was still practically pressed to Flare's neck, and his eyes slowly widened in realization.

He peered up at X once again.  X shook his head dismally, but did not move his fire-ready Buster.  "Zero…"  The cannon's maw seemed to stare him in the face, while X's soft-spoken tone struck a cord somewhere deep inside.

The Crimson Hunter pulled his blade back from Flare's neck and sheathed it with no further ado.  He gazed up at X pleadingly.  "You didn't seriously think…" Zero let the question hang in the grainy air.

"I'm not sure what to think," X sighed with a shake of his head.  He mentally fought off the conflicting voices screaming in his head on what, or whom, to believe.

Zero stood quickly and reached a hand down to Flare, who grudgingly accepted.  Hopping up at first, Flare walked away and effortlessly snatched his obsidian saber up off the ground, which he proceeded to switch off and jam back into his armor attached recharge pack.  He turned around lazily to face X and Zero while leaning on one leg and crossing his arms, back to the same pose he had assumed when he'd first entered for the face off.  

Zero huffed in disbelief.  "X, I can not believe you though I was going to _kill_ him!  That's absurd!" He furiously waved a hand at Flare, who showed no acknowledgement of having heard anything.

X appeared hurt at the harsh accusation.  "I—"

"No, X," Zero cut him off, accompanied by a slash of his hand.  "I don't want to hear it.  I guess you can't even trust your own friends anymore, huh?"  

With a sigh, Zero's tone softened ever so slightly.  "I'm sorry.  Just leave me alone for a bit, alright?"  With a shake of his head, he began to stalk toward the exit.  The Blue Bomber made no attempt to stop his friend, and merely stood with a dumbfounded expression on his face.  The Hunters by the door eagerly separated for Zero to pass through unrestricted.

Flare watched the Hunter depart in silence.  After a few delicate moments, he started to follow himself.  As he passed X, the other Hunter reached out and grabbed him hard by the arm.  X peered at him in the eyes with a searching look.

"Flare, what—"

"I'd rather not talk about it," interrupted Flare.  He wrenched his arm free and strode out, making his own exit.  X's shoulders slumped forward as if they held the weight of the world.

"Why?" murmured the Hunter as he morphed his Buster into a clenched fist.  "Why…"

The whispering wind held no answers for him.

**********

Whiplash watched in incredulity as Zero, then Flare, marched out of the Rec Room, leaving his commander alone, looking as if he were ready to collapse.  He turned to face Desiree and Kat.

"What's going on around here?" he exclaimed.  Many did not hear his outburst, as a majority of the other Hunters were also loudly expressing their reactions to the display.  Both female Hunters shrugged at the same time.

"Something odd is definitely going on in HQ lately," sighed Desiree.  "People are acting strangely, as if something's going to jump out of the shadows and devour them on the spot.  It makes no sense.  There have been no attacks, nothing for them to base the uneasiness on."  She paused grimly.  "But it's there."

"This is not going to help the mood around here," agreed Kat.  "And I'd love to know what's going on with our great commanders.  X has been having mood swings up the wazoo, Zero's been acting mighty aggressive at times, and Flare…  Well, he's just Flare.  But something peculiar's going on with him too.  Did you see the way he acted in there?  Zero and him were savage.  I couldn't believe it!"

Whiplash nodded.  "I agree.  Something IS going on.  I just can't figure what."

The Commander of the 7th crossed her arms and leaned her head back.  "I suppose we just keep an eye out and try to piece it together ourselves.  I doubt we'll be getting any large newsflashes from the likes of them."

Kat opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a commanding voice coming in through the public announcement systems.  All of the Hunters silenced immediately.

"Maverick Hunters, this is Dr. Cain.  I've just received some interesting news that I'd like to share with you all.  This will be broadcast throughout the building, so if you wish to see, I suggest you take a look.  Cain out."

The shield in front of them flickered and suddenly focused.  Displayed was a tall, middle-aged human male dressed in a business suit standing behind a large podium decorated with a large insignia.  The corners of his eyes were etched with laugh marks, and his mildly wizened face appeared like one of a jovial personality underlain with a bit of solemnity for measure.  The man cleared his throat.

"Humans and reploids across the world, I, New United Nations Representative Quentin Bailoff, am here to deliver news of a momentous occasion to be heard by all.  Today, a contract of great importance was signed.  This will change the lives of everyone on the planet, and I hope you welcome it with open arms."  He cleared his throat once again and shuffled a few papers on the podium.  Bailoff looked up and stared directly into the camera lens, his piercing green eyes shining with enthusiasm.  

"Today, Project "Eurasia" has been reinstated, which was halted for the second time at the start of what has been dubbed as the Third Maverick Uprising.  We are presently preparing to complete the artificial gravity device that will provide stability to the pioneering colonists who will hopefully settle the lunar orbital colony.  The colony will soon be finished and have the ability to support both human and reploid life.  This will be written in history books as one of the greatest endeavors of mankind!"  A chorus of cheers and calls rang out in the crowds who were attending the conference.  Bailoff raised his hands to signal them to quiet down.  He continued.

"I will be leading the project, but I surely won't be attending to this alone.  Also joining me will be two other representatives, who will provide me with their most essential input.  They are AmeriCanadian Representative Matthew Jelken," he gestured to his right, "and Russian Representative Nikolai Sporskein."  He then gestured to his left as well.  "I will now allow them each a word."  He stepped backward to make way for his associates.

Both men stepped toward the podium and stood side by side.  Jelken, a relatively young man who appeared to be in his early thirties, spoke first.  Again, this man was lighthearted and seemed at ease with the world around him.  "This is a momentous occasion, and I could not have announced it better myself.  Thank you, Representative."  Bailoff bowed slightly in response.  Jelken's accent clearly defined him as an American, probably of New England descent.

Jelken grinned and chuckled lightly.  "I really don't have anything important to say that's not reiterating what my fellow colleague has already said, so I'll turn over the mike to Representative Sporskein."  He waved an enthusiastic hand at the microphone.  Sporskein nodded gratefully.  His grizzly face was taut and had to work a bit to display a thin but genuine smile.  "Let us work together for peace and harmony in both races, human and reploid!" he gruffly called.  Applause pounded throughout the auditorium.  He continued to speak.  "We will always remember this day.  Do not doubt our ability to finish what we have started.  We will prevail!  Let Eurasia live on!"  He pumped an energetic fist into the air, which the audience took as their cue to start cheering.  A quiet murmur rolled from tongue to tongue and solidified into one word.  _"Eurasia!  Eurasia!  Eurasia…!"_  The image promptly flicked off.

The Hunters murmured between themselves at the startling display.  The Eurasia Project was projected to be the linking factor, a symbol of peace between the two nations of reploid and humankind.  But, the start of the First Uprising had stopped the project at its earlier stages.  Humans had newly acquired the ability to create orbital colonies that could support life in the early years of 2100.  Technology had improved greatly over the last century, and was going to be used as a sign from the nations of the world to prove that a new era had descended upon the Earth.  Thanks to Sigma and his cohorts though, Eurasia had again and again been stopped from completion.

The project had been restarted after the Second Uprising, but was once more halted at the onset of the Third Uprising.  This was their third, perhaps final, chance to prove that reploid and human life could coexist peacefully in a completely contained and structured society.  It was an amazing show of confidence for the NUN, or New United Nations, which had been created after when the original United Nations Council had disintegrated at the beginning of a brief but tumultuous World War III.

Commander Desiree shook her head.  "Wow.  That's big alright."

Kat grinned.  "We might finally have found a way to calm the general anxiety between our cultures.  Maybe people will finally take a breath and relax."  She sighed thoughtfully.  "Siggy might actually be gone.  Too bad I missed the action."

"Believe me, it's not so bad," reassured Whiplash grimly.  "We'd all be a whole lot better off.  So, I sure hope you're right about Sigma." He took in a deep breath and let it out in a huff.  "But it won't help us to figure out what's going on in HQ."

"Right," muttered Desiree.  Suddenly she smiled widely, causing her whole face to light up.  "But let's forget about that!  We should celebrate."

Desiree giggled childishly at a long forgotten thought.  "It's time to pah-tay!"  

Both of the other Hunters smiled at the commander's outburst.  

"For Eurasia!" cheered Kat and Whiplash at the same time.  Abruptly stopping, they glanced at each other simultaneously, and then burst out laughing.  

For now, it was time for the Hunters to forget their worries and live in the moment.  But truly, it was only the beginning of their troubles…

The demons of hellfire had been unleashed in more ways than one.  And to stop them, an enigmatic puzzle of monstrous proportions was to be revealed, a twisting thread weaved into a tapestry revealing a plot far larger than the eye or mind could easily comprehend.  Only chance was to tell if it could be unraveled.  And even then…

Would it be too late?


End file.
